Poetry: "Fragmentary"

Fragmentary

Madison Holt, Class of 2022

I think about fragments in the car—in rainstorms—swept by Lethe out of control—or better yet tattoo the margins—tear ink blood ink soaking through—I’ve been thinking about the sogginess—the dead words in my pockets—carcass parts in a freezer—triceps put to femur—voice on a chewed-up tongue—it speaks miscarried stanzas—I think of fragments when I’m alone—when I should sleep—they crawl away like dreams—obscure—unyielding—scrawl it scratch it out— devoid—I feel a fraud