An Invitation

Night crawlers:

and then deeper.

Earthworms of so many hearts

and so few brains, empurpled in lust

at midnight, smelling of mushroom

and sprouted potato.

Flee from my tread, peel

yourselves from your lovers. Return

once again to blindness.

Dig down past the roots

and hide

as you do

from the sun’s unforgiving.

Stay away from the point of my pen,

keep me from pressing you between the dead leaves

of my notebook, as the carnivorous plant

feeds, not to chew,

but to disappear its victim. Keep

to life.