When the tire next to my foot
Rolls over a bump in the road
I think of the carcass of an unfortunate
Raccoon or opossum or collection of organs
The curl of the fur and skin
In on itself and away
From crushed bones
As a child I saw bodies on the sides of the road
And imagined them sleeping
Their flattened out skulls
And wrongly bent toes
Delineating their species
The smash faced deer
The half-a-rabbit.
From the land of jackalopes
And unicorns
Their slimy guts, a condition of their entrance
Into my world
Their naps along the sideline, a sacrifice
for me
To see the expanse
Of their mangled bodies
What should we call you, now that you’ve risen from hell
You could call me Persephone
Because of the seeds under my tongue
Or the dandelions
curling in between my toes
After all I’ve got death
kissing at my feet
In reverence
Of my flowering path
His body is a pyre of devotion
Decaying into my soil
My consumption is a slow erosion
To accept his blossoming sacrifice
Is to sink the jagged roots of my teeth
Into the stretched flesh of his peeling lips
You may call me Persephone
But do not forget what the name entails
Queen of darkness
Tamer of death
Ruling in his stead
Josie Levin has been published in several publications, including the Circus Literary Magazine,Daily Herald Newspaper, and Ink & Voices.
