Ecce Angus Deihttps://i0.wp.com/barrenmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/Down-By-The-River-e1544201915418.jpg?fit=1920%2C1064&ssl=119201064Jennifer WilsonJennifer Wilsonhttps://i0.wp.com/barrenmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/24469432-89BB-4A3C-B9BE-FCFF1BF2C0D9.jpeg?fit=96%2C96&ssl=1
Behold the Lamb of God as chasing
downhill butterflies behind its own lolloping head
it croons in yellow tides like flowers
flushed red when pressed,
White wool turns in fluid
milky with a stick like wounds and yellow
stuck to yellow and reds gone brown
and down after its bleating head
as the bleeding hillside rolls asunder;
head from heart defused
and left to run before its body
plodding blindly over its feet.
Symbols of Saint John meet water
and get heavy, sodden slash
poured through to the bone with water,
thyroid burst in water, and tongue
so thirsty from its ordeal
it reaches out endlessly for water.
Jennifer Wilson lives in Somerset, England, with her husband and spends her days as a faceless retail drone. She came top ten in Molotov Cocktail’s 2018 Shadow Award and is forthcoming in Rhythm & Bone Lit’s YANYR anthology and the new webzine of Fly on the Wall Poetry Press.