Written By: Allison Noonan

I. Autolysis

Nothing wakes you up at eight in the morning like the smell of death.
I try not to think about all of the dead deer cells I’m inhaling
on the way to work, but I don’t always remember
to hold my breath.

II. Bloating

Maggots feast upon the flesh,
before being consumed by fig wasps.
We’re equally susceptible
to the blowfly bacchanal.

III. Active Decay

It felt like being let in
on some kind of secret,
seeing the cycle of death
out in the open like this.

IV . Advanced Decay

Rain began to wash the bones,
pelting hard enough to eat away at dry blood.
Sun bleached, pristine white and dry,
like they’d crumble to dust if you looked the wrong way.

V . Skeletonization

They bulldozed the lot on a random Tuesday.
No care to remove the deer,
just mangled the bones,
crushing them to pieces.

VI. Succession

I wish I took the deer home,
brought her back to life
in some little way.



Allison Noonan is a poet who typically writes through a surreal lens, melding the mundane with dreamlike escapism. If you like her work, keep up with her via Instagram @allisonnoonan.

The link has been copied!