I read a Frank O’Hara poem
and ate a cheese sandwich
The apocalypse replaced the sandwich
with a torch
that led me down a dark tunnel
vibrant with the rich fur coat of its odor

Its ragged breath is its own thick body
and it is this body that I follow

Suddenly the apocalypse is gone
and then it is all around me

It has swallowed me and I hang onto its tooth
until my grip slips
and its breathbody carries me
through its esophagus
and deep into its ruins

Erik Fuhrer holds an MFA from the University of Notre Dame. His poems have recently appeared, or are forthcoming, in Crack the Spine, Maudlin House, Ghost City Press, and Cleaver.

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