O wildest blue. O wild

boar scalpeled

open, peeled back, let me

click you. Let me

like until your blue

fat glows. O phenomenal

mystery, you’re so

bright already, o terrible

terrific, shot dead

so someone could

snapshot you. O

shareable beast,

o trending freak

animal, the internet wants

to know if I want

to know more, and how

could I not want

to know more about

pig’s blue innards,

to see in the photographs

a bloody hand holding back

the skin. I want

to press my pink finger against

your marbled blue

bubblegum fat.

Oh, how I want that hand

to be me my hand.

O swine, how you

bait me, and I cannot

touch you, I can only

click. O pig that appears, I

am also blue, and though

my shade is more

metaphorical, it’s like

you know me, and the internet,

it knows me, it says

recommended for you:

 

***

 

Kathryn Smith’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Mid-American Review, Southern Indiana Review, Redivider, Laurel Review, Bellingham Review, Duende, Cleaver Magazine, and elsewhere. Her first poetry collection will be published in 2017 by Scablands Books.