Chatham Grey
THE WAY NIGHT CAME

imprecision its evidence
she, too, now, as if —
feral

[another coyote
cackling aspersions
submerged
in the eventide infinity
without event or apex upon which
to rest
blame
or inculcate]

canine, slinking bones
the frame upon which
a thin, outstretched tent
of husk skin
(an almost house)

takes in vast,
a-historical
visitors

each night,
the same:
a dinner party in her ribs,
hosting
insatiable guests

divider

CHATHAM GREY is a recent NY to CA transplant working on her PhD in philosophy and women's studies. You can find her porch-sitting, writing, teaching, musing, and up to general mischief.