Saturday, July 16, 2011

The Cabbage Worm

This poem is a story. In my mind I can see the events that lead up to this moment, but I don't want to tell them because I want whoever reads this to have their own story. It is about deception and the way others react and feel when they realize they have been deceived (especially as a mass).


The Cabbage Worm

It was the seventh day
That is, the seventh of May
And he would hang
On the gallows.
He had beguiled us
Reviled us
And we felt distaste sting
In our mouth.
Though his words
Had been smoke
We had believed
This fable-full man.
Our vanity
Our vanity
No elixir
For that disease.
The solution?
Let his au jus
Run down the
Wooden platform
And pay for
His sulfur sins.

-Emily Chumchal Andrews

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