Cyst Poem by Luke J. Holt

Grow me
for a fatted mare to gnaw
for dour scissors to snag

cut it out
this new wing
me

make rough, shredded holes
where i slept in your skin

i am a hopeless tooth
gaped from you
across russet gums-a stream

wide rivers bellowing brown
as nodding bells of frozen cows blow stupid in May

dont tell me where to reach
i have my evolving hands in your shivering woodwork

dumb leaning houses, ugly piers, shammy seagulls scrubbing snowy beaches.
black coins speak of ill ages
((rotting banks, coffins forged in talc and tape))
icy, needlish doom

darkling wart
spinner of ugly
me

the shiny scale you may have brandished
the shy medallion
me