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Mortem Immaturus in Maio: A Scene of Putrescence, Grief, and Rain
The grime-coated walls of a cement-made bodega house a family of two; her mother cries out beside her, howling, a grief-stricken tune—it is a dog-eat-dog world after all. Four walls echo silence and few.
The buzz of an old lightbulb— swarmed by a myriad of flying termites, the quiet whine of my panicked and labored breath, the heaving and puffing of a mother dog.
The skies cry out above us: its tears soaking the unclipped growth—that surrounds concrete foundations. A reek astir, odor of: wet loam, mold, fungi, and wood encapsulates us in a bubble, suffocating, with a humid warmth; a repugnant rusty taste on my tongue,
spreading, infecting, infesting. My mouth waters with sour spit.
I crouch beside her, stunned and unable, her gaze unmoving—as we seek some sort of unspoken respite in each other. I feel the bile rising up the flesh of my throat—a stomach-drop feeling, as I realize that it wasn’t dog shit that I touched.
May is the month of entrails and death.
The buzz of an old lightbulb— swarmed by a myriad of flying termites, the quiet whine of my panicked and labored breath, the heaving and puffing of a mother dog.
The skies cry out above us: its tears soaking the unclipped growth—that surrounds concrete foundations. A reek astir, odor of: wet loam, mold, fungi, and wood encapsulates us in a bubble, suffocating, with a humid warmth; a repugnant rusty taste on my tongue,
spreading, infecting, infesting. My mouth waters with sour spit.
I crouch beside her, stunned and unable, her gaze unmoving—as we seek some sort of unspoken respite in each other. I feel the bile rising up the flesh of my throat—a stomach-drop feeling, as I realize that it wasn’t dog shit that I touched.
May is the month of entrails and death.
Published 7th May 2024
Author's Note
I wrote this two(-ish) years ago when I discovered my dog’s puppy had been killed—by what I presume is another animal.
I only put this in miscellaneous because its 0041 right now and I honestly don’t know where to categorize this. Thoughts?
I only put this in miscellaneous because its 0041 right now and I honestly don’t know where to categorize this. Thoughts?
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The author encourages honest critique.
7th May 2024 6:56pm
This is real, brilliant write, weeping subject, tears touching the corners of my eyes. Stunned.
7th May 2024 7:12pm
all life and death has energy don't let the stench of decay overwhelm you... you are not from this realm but like me you are trapped here listen to your ancestors they are singing to you from their tombs they will direct you energy back to a the peaceful existence you seek in the beginning there was only one dimension a woman gave birth alone in space to two identical twins they loved each other greatly and their mother their names are sacred hello little one I will not let them harm you it is the year of the dragon there are two similar now to tell them apart embrace your sisters and brother it has been hello on earth the corona virus almost claimed my soul a couple times this year I embrace self healing and meditation holistic herbs and connect to those who are willing to heal with me please though you are far love your mother through this bring her a soup it should help ease her suffering your love will heal her through the pain.
