Chris McCreary
Summer 2025 | Poetry
Edgeworm
The airs in here are more than any dog
could ear. Aren’t we all living our lives
on opposite sides of drywall? Who
among us hasn’t shat this sofa bed
when under duress? Our better angels
were escorted into the circle of myrrh
& force fed shredded credit reports until
they burst. Our favorite game is stuffing
their bronzed skulls with potpourri :
it's like charades but with snakes
& shoots, pulleys & loops. We take tea
& cake pops in the nook before book club.
I take dictation only when I'm certain
everybody’s whistle’s already wet. We're
not here for a good time but a long time
coming under cover of busted lacrimal
ducts. Who among us wasn't easily led,
easily swayed, put paid & laid out amid
the potluck’s lasagna? Who hasn't retained
tomato stains even after they’ve run you through
the dishwasher? The heart wants what it wants
& what it wants is your arm around my waist
estranged even from its owner’s elbow. Our every
faux pas sends me scrawling, yet there’s cold comfort
in leftovers served as second brunch. Dust jackets
are what remains, our pages dampstained
& lightly foxed.
Mark Lee Webb makes his home in Louisville, Kentucky. He’s a writer, photographer, and musician. Mark received his MFA in Creative Writing from Queens University of Charlotte. His work has appeared in many literary journals, he has two chapbooks published, and his first full-length book of poetry, "It's Not Easy Being a Moth", was released in 2021 by Accents Publishing. His photography has been selected for the covers of journals and and included in several juried exhibitions. Mark is also a jazz drummer, playing regularly in clubs around Louisville.