ÖMËGÄ
CHRYSALIS ❋ Jennifer MacBain-Stephens
bloody mandibles
black spider follicles
hot iron away placid
third torso sex parts
the triangles, ovals
and smarty pants winged bits
A quiet carp floats into frame
take a picture
it’ll last longer
Sea life tells me fuck off
I don’t belong here
my woman chrysalis
hardens then explodes all over
the DNA covered hotel bedspread
a second rate calamity gift horse
I stretch my bug legs. Who knows
how many digits I have?
How many lives did I ruin
to get it right? I rub
the front two sections together
fire up my combustion ticket
find a fresh green leaf
massacre it in pixelated time
the hunt is on: I will be
prey or mounted on cork
whichever comes first
I’ve got two weeks, tops,
to figure it out.