Pulling Weeds/poem

Pulling Weeds

I snatch some words
like broad-leaved grass;
clutching a single bunch
to tug the sound
out of the dark,
wrenching to snap
the feeder roots
of “gristle”, “ratchet”
and “racist”.

Other words are tubed and supple,
like horsetail reeds,
hollow words disjointed,
channeled through
sexual “o”s
like “louvere”,
“opal” and “doorway”.

The deep words
grow like seeds.
I poke them into furrows,
summon the crumbled murmurs
of “hobble”and “bump”,
build covered words
like “sob”,
or construct a “tunnel;”
the home of the snake.



Jennifer M. Carrasco