devoid of angle bulbous and taut, they squat beneath your uncle’s sloped pecan tree cajoling with lichen in the worm moon’s month what did you know about poison poison is just like us if poison had a face it would be your face if poison had a name it would be yours the Queen has never killed a soul once it rained aeroplankton spores for weeks no one could see for all the fungal swarm this is speaking tumors into flesh we name mushrooms after their proprietary horrors the Queen’s white ledger build your house on the edge of a ravine ride a horse into the sea these are other fool crimes you know isn’t poison just another word for anti-human unfit her averse properties plucking fruit from her white hand animal-you felt pretty
Robert Campbell is the author of the chapbook In the Herald of Improbable Misfortunes (Etchings Press, 2018). His poems have appeared in Tupelo Quarterly, Columbia Poetry Review, Ninth Letter, and many other journals. He holds an M.F.A. in Creative Writing from Murray State University and an M.S. in Library Science from the University of Kentucky. Read more about him at robertjcampbell.wordpress.com.