The Enemy of Nature – Paul Ilechko
We had caught the snake
that infiltrated the wetlands
and cut it into four pieces
each chunk still larger
than a man’s arm
and then we burned it
the skin glowing orange in the heat
there was a stink of meat
of carnage overlaying
rotten fruit and leather
till only a skeleton remained
we had been afraid of the snake
but it became clear that we
were the ferocious ones
our teeth able to rip flesh
black death
and mucous membrane
and a hatred that surpassed
the rights conferred by terror
we were the worst thing
and we knew it.
Paul Ilechko is British American poet and occasional songwriter who lives with his partner in Lambertville, NJ. His work has appeared in many journals, including The Night Heron Barks, Tampa Review, Iron Horse Literary Review, Stirring, and The Inflectionist Review. He has also published several chapbooks.
