Instead I nursed a burn from the roaster rack on my bird finger

I was staring out a window eating potato salad, and suddenly
we were prepping for a 'nade, securing hallway doors, and
on second glance, there were in fact no storm cells everywhere

instead I nursed a burn from the roaster rack on my bird finger
having stepped into the rain for a fistful of fennel and stuffed it,
sinews of intimacy had grown too tight, thus my careless touch.

the way this one bubbled against nature, bled medical waste
the butchered organism suffers indignity of fate
when with what it is embalmed is the same as what it ate


by Peg