My Only Population (For Lyn) Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Insect crawls
over the back of my hand.

Because I am
a child

I let it.

To it I am
just endless terrain

a strange warm land

full of freckilsh brown sun
boyish cuts ‘n’ scratches

that it traverses

trekking over the mountain ranges
of my veins

the frozen lakes of my nails

the furrowed ridges
of my fingerprints

It’s travels
...tickles.

I transfer it
to the amazing world of my hair

a totally different dimension.

Imagine it thinking:
“Wot de...! ”

THE TWILIGHT ZONE
...for insects.

I a world
moving through space
and time

the planet of me

the insect
my only population.