28 October 2013

a poem


I love cockroaches
the way they breathe
through their skin

if you submerge them
in water they hang limp—
a simulation of death

but once they dry out
their antennae twitch
& they sprint into the dark.

I am saturated— 
all my orifices shut 
laying in stasis

entombed like sewage 
I wait for the sun
to dry my flesh