Heard a story once about a guy who was
attacked by something
wild
& the thing gored & eviscerated him
& he literally had to drag his guts
through the woods
to a road, miles away,
& collapse.
A pair of headlights
would find him later,
& in the emergency room
they couldn't sedate him,
they were afraid he was too weak to survive it,
that they couldn't revive him if they did,
so they hand-washed his intestines,
scrubbed away the
grit
pebbles
pine needles
him wide awake & watching
feeling it
all
full-bore, &
straight on
through . . .
He lived.
Now that's a
goddamned
poem.
Hosho McCreesh is a poet hailing from Albuquerque, New Mexico. He has appeared in a number of publications and made previous appearances in Gnome and Devil Blossoms.