Poem By Anastasia Clarke

your life is gone now
left as nothing but a lump of blood and fur
mourn not for what you've lost
but for what you've never gained

(see that shape there in the road
it's been dead for quite some time
people swerved around it
not wanting to get their tires bloody)

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Other poems of CLARKE

Holding An Icecube

I'm holding a little artic world in my hand
its asphyxiated life shrinks and drips, counting down the minutes to apocalypse
Is this the pain a god feels?
that dull ache within my fingers

The Escape - (For Booger)

For one moment you were free
your ink-dropp eyes squinting
in the pure light of the sun
you turned your head, bewildered at the sight of this world

To A Moth On The Laundry Room Floor

This morning I crouched down and watched you
struggle on the bare linoleum floor and asked,
'What happened to your wings? '
For at any moment you could have flown out of the open door

Pitcher Plant

hungry buzzing weighted silent,
he licks the sides like a lover
mother-loved faces never share
though drunk from the same glass