Alex Patriquin

Marginalia & found poetry. Short fiction and other projects. Musings  on startups. Photos from NYC and travels.

Ode To The Maggot

Brother of the blowfly 
And godhead, you work magic 
Over battlefields, 
In slabs of bad pork 

And flophouses. Yes, you 
Go to the root of all things. 
You are sound & mathematical. 
Jesus, Christ, you’re merciless 

With the truth. Ontological & lustrous, 
You cast spells on beggars & kings 
Behind the stone door of Caesar’s tomb 
Or split trench in a field of ragweed. 

No decree or creed can outlaw you 
As you take every living thing apart. Little 
Master of earth, no one gets to heaven 
Without going through you first.

From Talking Dirty to the Gods by Yusef Komunyakaa