Two Poems / by Reed Hexamer

Papilio Polyxenes

she will diagnose you by the national geographic
on the white stand by the plant too plastic to die
she will open to the two page spread; full color
ten thousand dissected black swallowtail butterflies
ask why you wanted to pin yourself to the windshield
of the oncoming forest hills train
why you only identify with animals that are already crucified
why you shave your arm’s wallpaper
she asks what color you will paint your new body
suggests yellow like egg yolk; like bruise almost healed
asks if you think it will feel less like him




Botanical Dentist

the flowers are teething this morning
pointed green buds knitted into rows
my backyard looks like an animal with its mouth open




Reed Hexamer is a multimedia artist and performance poet who runs workshops, open mics and poetry slams in the Boston area. She is also the president of the Massart Poetry Alliance and enjoys writing on fire escapes she perhaps should not be on.