ouroboros
  Natalie Baker

skeletons in the soil bend with the weight of
slime-molten streets glazed with rain. i am
the fault line fracturing the pavement

to reveal the ragged soul of the earth,
the writhing pale grimace of rust and rock rearing
its milk-blind head through the crust.

the trembling in your stomach is the
epicenter from which i grow. i am the ripple of brick as if water,
pulsing through blood and asphalt, mortar,

pulling dust-cracked buildings from their roots into
sinkholes wide gaped to the darkness of soil
black like the inside back of your skull.

Past Issues Contact and Submissions About The Steel Chisel Author Profiles