The old road from "Left"

This poem is about a strange primal fear I had as a child. I was always afraid something horrible would happen to me while playing with my friends, and they simply wouldn’t care.


Down the gnat cloud road,
and past black dirt
holes dug, when Jimmy
slit wrists of a paw’s

shape buried in bubble mud.
Skin breaks when
you pass the torn fence
where hogs once fucked

and an old swing snapped
with a smile and cast.
No rashes now, or doctors.
The friends flee as cicadas

strike their chorus. Soon,
the moon will say fare-
well, and a real dark
can creep with spider

steps down your open
throat. Choke? No.
That would be too easy.
Mom throws out the lard

and kills the grass.
If your lucky, she may,
at some point, wonder
what became of you.


One Response to “Left”

  1. ah childhood fears and phobias!!!! we all had one or two.a lovely poem; well done

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