"Pavement Animals" by Sarah Taylor-Foltz

Pavement Animals

There was a squirrel dead in the road
body laid out flat
bisecting the yellow lines
lifeless
but for his still intact tail
that kept lifting from the wind
as the cars flew by.
Waving.

Life after death.

A few miles down
a blackbird’s body was pancaked
into the pavement
with a wing that still moved
when caught by the wind.

Is there a roadgod
who requires blood sacrifice?
Bones and organs
to fill potholes
to fortify the pavement
manifesting itself with discarded
bodies and gravel?

Jogging I saw a buckeye moth
flat and dead
but not mangled.
She was preserved perfectly on the side of the road.

I passed but then paused.
I took a photograph of her
and posted it to my social media
without mentioning that she was dead.

I did not want people to know that
I take pictures of dead things for others to admire
like a Victorian family portrait
where you cannot tell who is alive
I do not try to be morbid.

She belonged to the roadgod
whose terrible body glistens with
fresh tar and gravel
whose face has a yellow battle stripe
painted across it like a primordial warrior.

I took her and offered her to another god
I had sanitized her death
and made it about the beauty of her body
like a man would.

I say prayers for dead things on the road
wondering if their families are waiting
if anyone loved them
because that is what being alive means.

Having stolen a sacrifice, I will be extra careful
on the road for the foreseeable future—
the roadgod is apt to kill
indiscriminately but also with
intention.

Sarah Taylor-Foltz

Sarah Taylor-Foltz is an MFA candidate at Wilson College and a teacher of English. She writes poetry, fiction, and non-fiction. Her work has appeared in Prometheus Dreaming, Rogue Agent, and Quail Bell. When she is not teaching or writing, she enjoys painting, fabric crafts, and hanging out with her large brood of rescue animals. She imagines a radically positive future and wonders whether she is a good witch or a bad witch.

Headshot: Travis Foltz

Photo Credit: Jackson Purcell