by James Underwood

Claw

Carapace,

claw

had to

be

word fit

to you.

Greener Being

Drawn rise of days

within me, hair

fallen out,

my head a fungus and

infection –

I found your greener being

living on my body.

Release

You craft your own

release, snaking from my

belly, molting

unbidden, I

follow.

Traffic

Wood-smoke and throats

of animals, flesh

in traffic –

Sometimes they nail a bat to the table

so you can buy it.

Wane

I’ve grown into pitch,

the gag of a black

strangled motion

lost touch of the light that’s run past the wane

of horizon

& swallowed myself

tamped

what remained into

molar.

Notes on Author’s Work:

As well as these five poems, more of James Underwood’s poetry can be found in the inaugural December 2012 issue of Eastlit as well as the May 2013 issue of Eastlit.