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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Some Things Are Universal” Down in the Dirt v208 (6/23) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing in the book On Stones and Bones the 2023 poetry & art collection anthology		get the 182 page poetry & artwork & photography collection anthology as a 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Nub

Donna Dallas

What in God’s name
creeps up my spine
tentacles entrenched in the deep gorge
that holds my heart
twists unholy

What ribs me with pointed spear
the thing crunches me under its Doc Martin
I’m tired of those diabolical fingers
to the point of caving
into this open grave
I’ve fallen twice already
dug myself out
dirt so caked under my fingernails
can never scrub them clean enough

Third time a dead ringer
I’ve worn the medal
for centuries
black under its rusty metal
it’s a grim torment
weaves its ocular
through veins
such a viny watching weed

I’m so filled with hate I may burst open
spew an incredible gore of backlash
enough to fill more than one grave
perhaps all three

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