To Embrace

The tick in the dog’s ear
gorged itself
until it couldn’t walk.
I won’t lie and say
I didn’t watch it dance
before I pinched it.
Some vengeful, almost extinct
god did it to me.
I drank
until there was no up
or down.   
And I knew for a while that
it held me
before it squeezed blood
from my mouth.

Miasma

The toilet of the worst house in Oswego
spoke back to us
every night, spreading its breath
throughout the rooms.
And outside,
a mother skunk and her kits
lived behind our bulging garbage cans.
I had to chain smoke to breathe properly.
So thick the scent of waste and wither
it began to mimic fluid.
Every day was a swim
through the sewers.