Seeds of Disintegration, a poem by Lori Marchesin at

Seeds of Disintegration

Seeds of Disintegration

written by: Lori Marchesin


From here, where they sit,
distance does not exist — a silver seed
falls through a cathedral of clouds,

reaches the forest where ring after ring it grows,
gets fat and then eats itself, crumbles
inside toward its heart

which slowly fractures under the wedge
of insects, rain, insults, daily decay
till nothing remains and where the seed-tree sank

and rooted there’s but a path of chips as big as fingers
whose grain is still visible in the copper light
of their hands lit by the brazen coals

as they turn a dismembered chicken on the grill
ready to eat each other with a swarm of words
that ravage more than mosquitoes.

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