Apricity Press Issue 2 March 2017 - Page 19


I am hairy or you might say fuzzy

and about as tall as a small boy.

I am part purple.

And I smell like tangerine

an exploding one.

Pregnant women

stay away from me

they are so smart.

Everyone else says

Hi, Hello there.

My friends call me Monkey.

Or Basil.

Or Limestone

And I live in the sun

like a postage stamp.

What do I do?

What I do is hard to say.

Have you ever used the word

poultice? That is me, in a way.

It’s what I do when I walk

into a room and I see

A bruise. Or contusion.

Or some sort of trouble.

I become a poultice.

I get to work.