I only find words in my dreams by Liz Wright

Driving across
Iowa on Interstate 35
we smashed

the migration of Monarch butterflies, literally
Smashed

with wipers and spray
to clear for
our view, we only spread
their bodies’ thick yellow residue, traces

of our murderous
Act

We were only driving across the plains.
We meant no harm.
Those damn butterflies.

They just got
in our way.
But, not to
Worry.

We’ll come to a carwash tomorrow
in Tulsa

Where we’ve already cleansed
so much