I have a love-hate relationship with poetry, including my own. Too much of it is contrived, precious, melodramatic, and affected. This one, though, makes me laugh, and maybe cements my claim to being the only person who’s written a poetic ode to roadkill in sonnet form.
Against the truck, two armadillos fought
(They lost not only lives, but tail and ear)
‘Twixt sun and rain and tire tread they rot;
And yet, Death is no sneering victor here!
See? In the putrid stinking street they lie
Crushed, congealed, their armored innards cool,
Providing shelter for the pregnant fly
Who leaves her maggots where dogs dare not drool.
The gleaming pearls wriggle – what a treat!
Joyful little maggots writhe and nibble
On fetid juice and desiccated meat
A revolting sight – no one would quibble –
But thus, within this roadkill springs new life;
Small recompense for armadillos’ strife.
Copyright 2003-2020 Holly Jahangiri