A skinning camp

Such barkskin and threadbones
in the anorexic forest.
Red people walk in it,
whoever to each other’s lap;
then done they rub their backs
on the dark musking sap
& fending their food
into the gutter of it all
they retire & connect their jaws
to everything in crawl
at once alike & alike not.
Then what is dead is spring
& what is handed is pawed
& all things live that once were rot.

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~ by Jeremy on May 23, 2010.

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