Size / / /

Standing in the shower

waiting for the water to wash

the flesh away. Wanting

to shed what bleeds, slip

free the slough of desire.

Heart let loose from its cage

to spiral wetly away with

the lungs and liver and

stomach and bladder.

Intestines coiling around

slithering like some worm.

All sliding out and down

piling up, an autopsy.

Vacant skin still floating

rippling with the rising water

empty eyeholes staring.

Emerging pure and purged

spindly white fingers grab

like stainless steel clamps

fold fallen flesh

and tuck it away somewhere

in a bottom drawer

beneath the clothes of winter.




Scott Pearson has published a smattering of humor, poetry, short stories, and nonfiction over the last twenty years, including The Mosquito Book, Strange New Worlds 9, Strange New Worlds VII, The Sky's the Limit, and Resort to Murder. He makes his living as an editor for Zenith Press, a military history publisher. He lives in St. Paul, Minnesota, with his wife, Sandra, and daughter, Ella. You can learn more about Scott from his website.
Current Issue
4 Nov 2024

“Did you know,” the witch says, “that a witch has no heart of her own?”
Outsiders, Off-worlders {how quickly one carves out a corner of the cosmos, / claims a singular celestial body as [o u r s] in the scope of infinity}
Lunar enby folks across here
Wednesday: The 2024 Ignyte Award for Best Novel Shortlist, Part Two 
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