Madwoman by Kristin Fullerton

The neighborhood kids swear
they’ve seen a woman
gnawing the bones of this house.

Ring the bell!

The childish taunt, I can hear.
Ear pressed to floor, boards
like a skin drum.

I am that madwoman, but
not eating.

All the while the foundation groans,
cracks, tries to balance itself
under the weight of my loneliness.

Is it too much to hope for some peace?
Ring the bell! Ring the bell!
If they did dare,

I could tell them about haunted,
But they wouldn’t believe it
tastes almost like candy.

That overwhelming sweetness,
now evaporated,
the crystalline carrion spirited away.

Even the sugar ants have moved on.

Kristin Fullerton lives in upstate New York. She is a proud alumna of both Elmira College and University at Albany. Previous work has appeared in Grasslimb and in Strong Verse, an online poetry magazine.

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