pinned like a taxidermied bird
after matthew 27:46
his wings span,
feathers of reds, greens, browns
sheer and swirl in the illumination
of the sun
his body twists like roadkill
fungus blooms, splits his skin
digs through his palms, his feet
a crown of bleeding, porous mushrooms
sprout from his follicles
the thick red broth
drips into his eyes
down his face
the other birds
pick and pull at the wound in his side
they snap muscle and burrow
his eyes storm with sorrow
the wrath of God
is suddenly unforgiving
the descent into hell was a fight
I was the lamb
and you skinned me
why have you forsaken me?
Hunger of Adam
God never meant
for him to rule
the shape of the garden
stands stiff beneath his feet
the earth breaks
salt soil pills and forms
he orders nature
and it doesn’t listen
when Eve was formed by birds
of mud, twigs, and marrow
she slept with the worms and the flowers
silver bounced off the surface
of a simple moon
and the rain flowed in her name
Adam,
his spirit hungry as a scythe
ravaged the honor of Eve
in her own garden
God and I wept and worshipped her bones
and Adam used them
to pick his teeth
Phædo
Socrates drank the hemlock
and he wasn’t scared
he willingly, urgently grasped the cup
lifting the goblet to his cracked lips
marvelling at how the poison
sizzled and burned his insides
as it flowed through his temporary home,
his prison of flesh
Socrates drank the hemlock
and it was all okay
because although his body will remain
his soul will be unshackled, released
finally free to dwell with the good, the just, the beautiful
Socrates drank the hemlock
told his friends to stop their crying
watched them in utter confusion
why were they sad?
philosophy is practice for death
and the gods have called him home
Socrates drank the hemlock
and now my pastor preaches on the soul:
be not of this world
this place is not your home
your home awaits you with God in heaven
nourish your soul, starve your flesh
Socrates drank the hemlock
and now i neglect the violent pain in my stomach
i watch my skin thin and stretch over my bones
i watch my eyes sink and my cheeks hollow
but i kneel
i offer my body in prayer every night
i am a living sacrifice
Socrates drank the hemlock
and now i wait for my turn
my soul burns in a fiery love for the Lord
and i watch the flora shrivel, the fauna decay
i hold my bleeding body together
my teeth shatter into shrapnel
and i swallow the pieces
— Ella McLaughlin is an undergraduate student studying philosophy and also pursuing their passion for poetry. Currently, she is working on a religious horror chapbook and will soon be starting a project surrounding albatross. They enjoy Dungeons & Dragons, vampire lore, slasher novels, and collecting haunted trinkets from questionable antique stores.