A seam torn open, soft jelly exposed
to the sweet licking of ants,
the barbed beaks of scavengers.
No hearts for the ones left grinning,
for the beaks, for the scavengers,
only the jelly, the sweet soft jelly torn open.
Rachel Westfall
March 6, 2011
A Little Scribble and an Honorable Mention
13 hours ago
11 comments:
There must be more lurking beneath the surface here that I'm not seeing. Even so, there is an eerie tone to this one; I never thought jelly and ants could sound so sinister.
Bread,
"from grain on scattered hillsides"
kneaded lovingly together,
a seamless whole;
joyfully consumed,
except the crust,
shared with other
living
creatures.
There is definitely something more, Joseph. I'm not sure yet what it is. I'm glad to have sparked your imagination, though!
Miss Sadie, you have a much less sinister take on things!
It Is So Dark
Is it the forage
or the trails that are painful?
I cannot tell now
if I ever could.
The driver ants darken things
as they pass, a wave
breaking over me.
They sound just like red gasping
breath, the last taken,
Death's drab closing door.
I think of vultures and spiny anteaters, against the jelly of flesh. Wonderfully evocative words.
Christopher, you've got it. The source of the pain can't even be isolated anymore. Munch, munch
Elisabeth, I like your choice of words! Vultures and spiny anteaters, against the jelly of flesh.
My heart goes to the underdog. Why am I weepy over a sandwich? Perhaps because I know it is so much more, and the weight of ants grows heavy.
Came over from Christophers. Thought I'd have a look around.
Annie, meet Rachel.
Rachel, meet Annie.
Two of my good friends.
Yay!
:)
Welcome, Annie! And thank you, dear Christopher!
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