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I feel them in my eyes

under my fingernails

my ears

between my legs

tickling my backside

cascading round

the squeaky clean hairs

in my pants

sucking

my toes

hot with their spice desire

I am weighed down

by a population

of evil

a cloak of pus and congealed

blood

and dried vomit

hangs on me

electric

fearce

and hungry

it crackles round my shoulders

and clicks on my skin

these germs have fed on

chicken blood smeared

on a chopping board

highway dog turds stuck

to the tyres of my car

and spread

over the concrete carport floor

exotic

paraphernalia

exported

from unwashed vegetables

in supermarket shelves

you don't know where

the hands of the farmer

have been

what

disgusting-farm-animal-things

he has done

the smells of the dairy

are cow muck

unstuck flung

into the pure vat of milk

splashed

in my face

I feel creatures on my lips

I spit and spit

trying to keep them

out of my mouth

then I realise

the tiny germs

have actually got

hands

they're grabbing me

caressing me

asking for something

I don't want to give

I open my purse

take out five dollars

and swat the little bastards

ugh erk

I scrape them off me with money

hard two dollar coins

burst the pustules

that have formed on my skin

ten cent pieces

erode the crater rims

where bacteria

ferment in

filth volcanoes

I wipe my flexing flesh

with old white 100 dollar bills

the grim face

of Douglas Mawson

Antarctic explorer

he purses his lips

and blows

howling winds from the south

to scour my coruscating skin

I'm suddenly

all awash

air bright

the bacteria

blown and blasted off

I'm vacuumed

sucked clean by southern white

Antarctic winds

Antarctic Ocean

I'm the south pole

of the rotating world

lone sailors circumnavigate me

that is all 

 

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