Lizzy Burnam 🐞

Now I’ll make a life unlike the old 
terracotta baked in plaster mold 

Then I’ll stitch a curtain for the skin 
to keep the bastard toms from looking in 

Planted in the ear a small device 
to cleanse the heart of hate and artifice

Last I’ll dig a moat from eye to gut 
to rush the blood at sight of rising dust

And when the time unpacks a fateful load 
the pit returns the peach and hits the road