Legassa

he had the itch
again he said
rubbed it raw,
infected with worms too.
I saw that the moon was still above the earth, watching.
I think they make a cream for that,
I offered.
skeptical,
avoiding my gaze, he said
it was
mostly just
bad lighting
and askew camera angles
making it seem worse than it was….
quickly
scratching
at something in the air
hissing blankly
through his teeth,
some winged thing.
I suggested we go somewhere calm
to lay low –
they could be looking for you,
understand?
(the clouds covered that cratered demon)
we drove out to my place.
I stuffed him in a broom closet
stopping his
slithering tongue
slumping
doe eyed taking up all the space with beseeching,
he whispered
are you leaving me?
no.
I’m going to steady the camera,
get you some new clothes.
snapping the lock in place
a sound scratched out of his throat
(a desperate hyena, losing traction on the tile of a holly-wood kitchen)
soaking the carpets
salving the mango walls
with quiet petrol
I wound my way backwards
through the maze of cardboard cut outs
made in my likeness.
I lit the match,
closed the door.
stabbing a cough through the cold air
driving into the dark
(moon rusting on the horizon)
to catch what was left of my life
on a television
just north
of here
where his septic tongue
could lick me
no longer.

Author Biography

Jeffrey Bennington Grindley is a 29 year old Las Vegas native still finding his way. Jeff co-hosts a  weekly community poetry event called the Human Experience in his hometown. Its goal is to provide a creative outlet for art, music and poetry, while raising awareness of nonprofit charities and volunteer opportunities. Jeff and his girlfriend run zine workshops and collect zines for of the Las Vegas Zine Library that they founded and maintain. Among other things, he is currently serving on the board for Las Vegas Poets Organization.