Fiber Arts

Poetry by Madison Bigelow 

Synanthropic (adj.): an undomesticated organism that lives in close
association with people, benefitting from their surroundings and activities 


               Myself I consume in small doses, teeming teaspoons 
               of Coca Cola or Saturday morning cartoons and when 

               indigo-hot nighttime static rolls into my bedroom,
               the mattress cleaves as I soften into its valleys. 

                                                         All knees and elbows, tomorrow I am a brown spider
                                                         in the corner of a sagging house with 

                                                         sweating walls that meet ceiling, bedrock groans
                                                         as life settles.  

                                                         The funnel weavers knit their webs in steady syncopation but I
                                                         am knotting my fingers, tangling my legs in an eight-strand braid. 

                                                                                                                   My mother snores one room over while I quell
                                                                                                        the ache to lurk under covers, press top of my head 

                                                                                   against her belly. Let her hands knot my hair. Off the bedside
                                                                                                                                                            cliff my feet dangle instead.

About the Author:

Madison Bigelow is an honors student at the University of Connecticut, where she is majoring in English and minoring in Sociology. Previously, her work has been published in Long River Review and New Square.

You may also like…