Poetry
Applebaum, David
14 David Appelbaum The Earthworm Jar The basement door opens & earth spills out, fat blood-red earthworms running like skinned snakes out of a garbage hamper. We live over their house. How...
...How did they get there...
...My job is to bring the slops...
...How else to feed who wait underneath for our meal...
...It is dark, the way just before being rescued from a dream where my mouth is stuffed with earth...
...They are almost lunch to a frying pan until grandfather takes them to their jar...
...He covers them with leftovers fit for a king...
...When I go down, I think I hear lemon peels dissolving in their bodies...
...Old man by the mailbox heap finds a ball of them glistening in dew & thinks, who passes through a worm could be a chief or sage, & puts them in a pocket...
...I think I hear how a heart lives in ajar...
...When I go down the soft, spongy stairs, blood rushes in my ears...
Vol. 121 • April 1994 • No. 8
