Carrie Weis
inheritance
eat the crab, mother says—eat it—and she
takes the ruby shell and snuffles the life out
with her breath and
snaps the cracked edges into two until
i can hear it gnashing between my molars,
swimming in crusted salt,
crying that sounds
of a thousand elephant feet, a million moth wings, a touch
of lung.
breathless life lifeless breath.
eat the mother, now, beckoning whispering.
salty chew between my teeth
do you need her
or does she need you
squeaky fibers of flesh weaving lips shut
—no can do.
shell on chalkboard, wheezing grinding
screeching
light pink dust scattering light—
aerosol. that’s what they call it
eat the child, the mother before the child
the mother now the child
my hands are red
shadows oily against my tongue
i lick my fingers to make it last.
Susan Hong is a high school junior from Washington state. She is a Genre Managing Editor at Polyphony Lit, and an editor-in-chief at the Renaissance Review (@renreview on Twitter!). In her free time, Susan enjoys reading historical fiction and psychological thrillers, trying to write poetry, and baking chocolate chip cookies.
Carrie Weis is an artist, writer, and educator. She holds a Master of Fine Arts in Painting from Kendall College of Art & Design, and a B.I.S. degree in Studio Fine Art with a minor in Art History from Ferris State University. She is active in her studio practice attending residencies and exhibiting in solo and group shows. Her works have been published on book covers and in art and literature periodicals.