Caught in the Throat

 

Adam Lawrence

 

 

They sweep the yard, after life.
Old territory gets domesticated with new names.
But underneath: ochre, slate grey. Their voices
like a seam of bituminous coal. Throttle-song caught
in the throat. These feathered missives
fill the air like tar filling the lungs.
No morning comes. Only mourning.
A gurgling croak replaces angel-song,
nodules grow. They count less
but think more, not bound by sedentary
math. One consonant away from a virus. 

In this country, there’s only receding—
from asphalt to soil, from gums to teeth.
Mark their warped flight path, their
sick warbling. A disease with a German
name. Industry poisoning earth and air.
Your own moon now a pale shell, but
underneath it, hear: their choking wrathful
anthem. Only fire from the throat
will burn your green paper
stamped with dead white men.
Green lies, which they’ll ram
back into your craw. Caw.

 

Originally written as a response to “CHAIN 8: Hibernate, Sweet Ghostess,” by Chris Tompkins (pub in Carousel, April 8, 2021).

 

Adam Lawrence’s scholarly essays on folklore and science fiction have appeared in several journals, including two anthologies in the McFarland series “Critical Explorations in Science Fiction and Fantasy” (2013, 2014). His poetry has appeared in Vallum: Contemporary Poetry, The Feathertale Review, Cypress Press, and long con magazine. He’s currently at work on several poetry chapbook projects. Adam holds an MA and PhD in English, and currently works as a freelance editor and writer in Florenceville-Bristol, the “French Fry Capital of the World.”