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November 21, 2007

They lie scattered
along dusty windowsills,
their half-moon corpses
like white crosses
on the interstate,

and we, who are drunk
on survival, who are as small
as we’ve imagined ourselves
in nightmares, need

to know that they didn’t feel
any pain, that their tiny lives
were worth living, that they died
in search of sweetness.

by Andy P.

Categories: Insecta Tags:
  1. Norm Lorenz
    November 22, 2007 at 11:35 pm

    great to see you in print.

  2. November 25, 2007 at 5:31 pm

    Very nice.

  3. November 25, 2007 at 10:13 pm

    This is so strong and precise – powerfully done via apparent simplicity. Thank you.

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