Angry Red Worms - The Prequel

The beginning is always the same as the end. The feeling of rolling a tumbler all the way down, and crimping the edges in at the end so it can hold the packet securely, keeping precious coffee inside, pleasing to feeble, planning minds, or creatures so crazy their peers shun them and stop communicating altogether with them; becoming aloof, opening a rift - The beginning is always the same as the end.

These creatures; conspiring, red, angry worms who were red either from anger or from the blood that rushed around inside their tubelike structures, could count. It made them arrogant, unbearable to the other life-suckers, for they could tell them how many years they had left to live. Thus the "plants" and "other animals" made the decision to cut the angry worms off like a blushing lush in a dive bar. And so it was unwritten. And so it was done.

Christmas In July

your indecision
rotates like a spinning top
in orbis terrarum;
ex nihilo nihil fit.
post-quotational phrases
have deeper foundations.

spilling upwards
through a well
the salt of the earth is rising
and the shallow sea
has no more room for salinity

if your sister becomes a witch
it is likely she will paint herself
in arcane woad
and scratch your arms until they bleed

long-fingernailed, she sits in the bathtub
and waits - having no skill for prophecy -
meanwhile crystalline trees of salt spurt
softly from the drains & windows
all becomes a fathomless white morass:
christmas in july.