The Stink Bug

Sweetness, here he is again,
with his buzz of reincarnation,
hanging from the edge
of the white gauze curtain
the color of sick bark.
I gather him
in the torn blue rag
carry him, a thing of no weight,
down the long unlit flight of stairs
to the toilet, flick him in
before he can spew his stink
of rot and bitter cucumber.

But here he is again.
And he is speaking.
Look at me, he says.
The hump on my back,
my knobbed eyes.
I know I crawl as if maimed
somewhere inside my body,
my legs pointing
to all the unblessed directions.
Led by nothing
but these flimsy antenna
I find my way back
from the underworld to you.
Yes, back through shit to you.

Sweetness, he says,
Look at me.
Look at me until I’m beautiful.

(published in Pensive Journal)