Wicked Little Moth-ings in Small Towns


Wicked little moth-ings in small towns
fly out from the chinking
between the houses and
between the walls of the houses and
between the boards of the walls of the houses
in small towns.

Ground-up straw and excavated clay,
opaque bonding where they pack,
discharge tineidae
through every wrinkled crack
to multiply in pellet-eggs
they lay in every fringe they find.

It’s not that they contaminate:
it’s that the hatchers
take them in like dirty secrets,
fold them into pants in chests
and closets, without even knowing
how they breed or even that they do.

Well fed then out they come
sticky, done pupating
wings with beady eyes
to cloud the upper air
already stagnant and threadbare
in small towns.

Freeze the cellars and the attics
to drop them in their flight.
Dust the hot porch-bulbs they fixate on
to fry their feathers and their furs
conveniently unnoticed when
they infest the public square.

Wicked little moth-ings in small towns
fly out from the chinking
between the houses and
between the walls of the houses and
between the boards of the walls of the houses
in small towns.

No comments: