Return to site

Poem: Killing A Six-Legged Saint

Published in Swarthmore College's Small Craft Warnings Fall 2015 Magazine

The vicar scuttled toward me, frightened and alone.

I stood still, seeing it fight the drones

Of its former flock, turned into the beasts

We so often see and many times disown.

Petrified, he collapsed, frozen on my altar

Littered with sleek silver and yellowed relics

That provide the cruel and the wise

To strike.

So I struck,

Caught in my own trance of disgust and compulsion,

Wondering if my sudden act of defiance spilled

A microscopic soul hiding from my revulsion.

Written by Abhinav Tiku

All Posts

Almost done…

We just sent you an email. Please click the link in the email to confirm your subscription!

OKSubscriptions powered by Strikingly