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Darwin Dreams of the Second Coming
The Messiah will come only when he is no longer needed.
--Franz Kafka
A shriveled priest shovels
manure and peat into the hole
he spent all day digging
and slips in, burying
himself up to his neck.
His crabapple eyes
roll out of their sockets.
Toes swell to tubers,
ears to budding legumes.
He lures insects
with a sticky tongue, unfolds
its length to catch raindrops
until it falls limp,
detaches, slithers away. |
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Adam Vines teaches at the University of Alabama at Birmingham and co-edits Birmingham Poetry Review. He has published poems recently or has poems forthcoming in North American Review, The Texas Review, The Cincinnati Review, Greensboro Review, Barrow Street, Third Coast, Confrontation, Margie, South Carolina Review, Controlled Burn, and others journals. |
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Date of Publication: 25 Feb 2008 |
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