The Unnaturalist

The Unnaturalist

Come to me, my spider-snake

my locust-worm, my vulture-hawk

my hyena-wolf, my caliban-mars.

The experiment ends in the killing jar.

Come to me, my spider-snake;

inside my lab where no lights leak

come close enough so I can crush

your twisting spine, your cambered cheek.

Come to me, my vulture-hawk

to feed on meat already killed

so long ago, so rank, so soft;
duplicity damning as it distills.

Come hyena-wolf, with your needle teeth.

I'll stroke your narrow jewel-eyed head

before I lift my other hand to

stop the pant of your opium breath.

Come locust-worm and build your nest

so near my fever that you grow warm;

starve in the twiggy bed of my breast

stripped by the multitudes of your swarm.

Come my caliban creations all

to the place I've built beneath the earth

where all lies end and none embrace,

where crippled mouths are filled with dirt.

July 2012

Posted for    OpenLinkNight   at dVerse Poets Pub

If you'd like to hear the poem read by the author, click below:

the unnaturalist by Hedgewitch O'theWilds

Header Image: The Crying Spider, by Odilon Redon, 1881
Footer Image: Caliban on a branch, by Odilon Redon, 1881
Public Domain, via Wikipaintings.org