I am a maggot.
A poet in larval stage.
A caterpillar in waiting.
I secrete invisible shells.
My triumph is my abalone solitude
With its polished and glistening opalescence
And this little spot
Way at the back
Where dinginess prevails.
Sometimes, I stay here too long
Eating composted memories
Digesting them into alphabet tracks
That drop from my caterpillar ass.
I can see you peering in through the cracks,
Deciphering my dark ideas.
Stop noticing my dirt.
Notice instead that
Words ride in triumph over emptiness.
Brenda Warren 2012
Trifecta honored my writing with a second place win, advancing me into a final round of writing this weekend. The prompt for the final round of this Trifecta Challenge is to use the third definition of triumph in a piece that is between 33 and 333 words.
1: a ceremony attending the entering of Rome by a general who had won a decisive victory over a foreign enemy — compare ovation 1
2: the joy or exultation of victory or success
3 a : a victory or conquest by or as if by military force
b : a notable success