I won’t bombard you
with my flesh-eating proclivities,
but old habits, as they say,
do die hard. My preference,
of course, would be for bodies
to remain soft and pliable,
incisors not being what they
once were back in the glorious day,
when it was nothing to tear a hunk
of human meat with a single swipe.
Julie Allyn Johnson
Julie Allyn Johnson is a sawyer's daughter from the American Midwest whose current obsession is tackling the rough and tumble sport of quilting and the accumulation of fabric. A Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee, her poetry can be found in Star*Line, The Briar Cliff Review, Phantom Kangaroo, Lyrical Iowa, Moss Piglet, Cream Scene Carnival, Coffin Bell, The Lake, Haikuniverse, Chestnut Review and other journals. Julie enjoys photography and writing daily haiku, both of which can be found on her blog, A Sawyer’s Daughter.