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Napowrimo Day #10


The seed of this draft was this year’s exceptionally bad allergies (again, starting with where I am in the moment). I ran with it a bit though and dove into the exaggeration.

Stuck in some child’s slime,
what a way to go.
The world is gummy,
the world is honey,
the sin of being full
of dust and germs.
Eyes and fingers
and toes and limbs
cemented shut.

What breaks us out?
No possibility of a
crack as in ice.
No way to cut
an opening. Some things
need to seep into
our pores before
we get beyond them.
Take the hell
inside of you.
Let the rest of you
overgrow it.


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