Espial | Megan Stratford

a wettingdurum yaws along eskers late summer statica drove of oxen; a wallop of brawny tailsover a swarm of mosquitos striving to tipple their trusses dry; of blood,of boors fishing for a garrison argil, doing what it does bestfrom the runaway cut-throatfrom the black mouthed coyote, who stains the ere with instinct—a wetting on the fuzzedcallow stem