May you sleep in slushy apples,
the acid mash of stomachs,
seafloor chimneys smearing
the deep with tartars of smoke.
I coo to poisonous beans,
noxious Botox twinkies,
and hum at naughty bonbons
of streptococci. Let your dreams
carry hordes through rotten tarns
and maggot guts. The world
needs your silent sawing:
wood to dirt, corpses to sand.
Waking, your tiny diamonds
dapple dog tongues and rain.
Your rancid flocks fester kisses
and ferment grapes to wine.
Eric Fisher Stone is a poet and writing tutor from Fort Worth, Texas. He received his MFA in writing and the environment from Iowa State University. His publications include two full-length collections: The Providence of Grass, from Chatter House Press, and Animal Joy, from WordTech Editions.
