A trickling valve reverberates
As a November chill sneaks about
Crushed glass cuts open your bare feet
There’s burning from within
It transmits from your esophagus
And escapes your perjurer’s lips
Torn from the abdomen
A festering, gaping pit
Where worms prosper
Where your heart was once set
Now is inhabited by the festering
And the once venerable worm becomes a blight
John Putignano 