Caddo Creek
We’ve come past the creek, two boys and
the indifferent lonely-
ness of beasts.
You move to incept the hunt, redhead
centipede scuttling
over stones,
ready to chew me unfamiliar.
We setae soften &
morph, eyes locked.
Dusts us pollinate, we primrose moths
topping wild onion blooms
in the clear,
flecked till flesh was flower, unflowered,
air wilted to dark crisp
softly sewn.
We suck the cups, the bulbs, our sepals
into windy glistens
sweeping at,
whipping into each other’s bodies,
into a new body,
one fleabane
fasciation freaking in dust gust,
warping together in a
cristate stretch.
Fasciation
goldenrod in riverside park flanking the silver maples
crested by mutation by miracle chance
sunglow fluff like cordyceps fungus frosting a wren
you carry with your splayed back
pollen kiefed
& rippling
the body found queer
is the body queer
bloom like an early h. d. poem
distinct you in a crowdy walk
autumn death above you
looking on
Seth Copeland (he/him)’s work has appeared in Puerto del Sol, The Shore, Yalobusha Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, and South Dakota Review. He edits petrichor.