The Worm That Didn't Count (for National Poetry Day)

Our contribution to National Poetry Day on the theme of 'counting'. A digital download of the studio audio will go live on Bandcamp on the day itself (Thursday Oct 3) and a link to that will also appear here.

The Worm That Didn't Count

i'm a creep,

a real crawler,

no backbone

at all, a

low humble

grinder, base

mouth full

of soil, a

wet, writhing

hyper-

sensed slave

to all, a

chill, faceless

horror, tightlipped,

toothless

scrawl, a

dim, brainless

shrinker from

harm, a cringing

coil, but a-

live!

and i can turn

To a snake in the grass, or in your bosom,

(Or under a garland of bright apple blossom)

Moving you deep in your bowels:

Subtly developed, sophisticated,

Staring through hooded lidless eyes

At a dense underworld, dimmed, deaf as Dis,

Feeling my sniff-flicking way with my tongue,

With a wriggle of ribs, swift-scaling the dust,

Dumb, unless rattled, when, breath caught, I hiss.

I'm

Puffed up with sluggish irritation,

Stitched in a dead skin, a splintered vision,

Excreted through rocks like fear, or birth,

Charmed by your writing arms, scared of sticks,

The dinosaur undead, too potent to handle,

Daemonic, divine, river written in the stars,

Smooth poison keeping Creation sweet,

The dragon. Get off my back or I'll strike you.

You've wanted me always, under your heel.

© Gareth Calway 1991