Happy Birthday, Mr. Senator
they filled the night with terrors
and opened every eye
to a hideous garden –
his sores were the blinking eyes of a god
as he shuffled to the door.
something swelling beneath the skin,
which peeled back
like an eye unlidding
to disgorge a bright orange
fluid like a poisoned stream
running down his legs
burning the webs between his toes
filling the house with a hot wind.