Worm Manifesto

Kathleen Radigan

Splintered, I begot

a twin. Hark! Rejuvenation.

Sliced down to spine,

I made a living limb

from the numb din

of my pain.

Do I begrudge

my sadder half?

That my wound

churned a path for herself?

No, my sister and I

will live forever.

We are singing

underneath you in the slime.

Kathleen Radigan is a writer and cartoonist from Rhode Island. She is a graduate of Boston University's Poetry MFA, and her work has been published in The New Yorker, Guernica, The Sun, The Rumpus, and TriQuarterly, among a few other places. She teaches high school English in New York City.
TAGS
Poetry Folios
Originally published:
December 6, 2023

Featured

Searching for Seamus Heaney

What I found when I resolved to read him
Elisa Gonzalez

What Happened When I Began to Speak Welsh

By learning my family's language, I hoped to join their conversation.
Dan Fox

When Does a Divorce Begin?

Most people think of it as failure. For me it was an achievement.
Anahid Nersessian

You Might Also Like


from −K

Eli Payne Mandel

House

Emily Hoffman

A Literary Gift in Print

Give a year of The Yale Review—four beautifully printed issues featuring new literature and ideas.
Give a Subscription