Eight-Armed Raincoats - Macy Adams

Dew drenched grasses sweetened by dreary fermentation
muddle piping precipitations – fishermen dawn the color
of today’s absent sun. Beacon in sky’s oversight: protection,
visibility; where can I find an eight-armed yellow raincoat?

Arachnid apparel absence is my dilemma to bear. The sun
has not lured intoxicating lilac in the air as clouds darken
dipping, dipping. No big ask: nylon scraps and a drop of
consideration, thread provided, the pattern collaborative.

Donation of silk softened by saturated air, it will be gone
by morning. Itsy Bitsy’s melody haunts me as I navigate
each storm, longing for a hint of care, of sanctuary, of
yellow to wear myself, in hopes of survival, a promised

next day of web weaving, meditation, breath would change
every, every every every, every... I would prefer no velcro,
maybe hooks for a one-size-fits-all approachability. Each
buddy of mine could spin their own closures, comparing

techniques the following day, no party absent. If only,
we were safe, better equipped, or had someone looking out –
I munch on my last meal, grovel with the gravel: spare my
fall. I ascend metal risk and long for post-clouded skies



​​Macy Adams is a second year MFA student in Poetry at Oklahoma State University. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in English – Creative Writing from the University of Central Oklahoma. Her writing often explores uncanny and absurd themes and her work has been published in various small presses, including Oyster River Pages.