Susan Kelly-DeWitt: Ode to Brother Roach

Little polished rump
of mud, your wings are
useless as the old
archangels.
 
All night the rain
pelts down on
your fumy house.
 
You are the garbage 
heap’s midnight eye,
all dark oil.
 
You are the dirty jewel,
the cursed black pearl
hidden in the opalescent
walls of morning.
 
Slippery brother!
You are the secret bead
in the rosary of reviled
things.

Copyright 2020 Susan Kelly-DeWitt. From Gravitational Tug (Main Street Rag, 2020). Originally published in Runes: A Review of Poetry.