Lulu Carrigan has a bachelor of arts in creative writing and three typewriters (two are broken). She has only been published, with a loose definition of the word, on her blog, luluthezulu.tumblr.com, or on twitter, @lulucarrigan. Talk to her about poetry, art, mopeds, music, people, places and things! More work by Lulu featured on IP.
Backyard Brouhaha
When the going gets weird the weird begin to stir.
They whir through the trees behind my sandbox
rubbing blackberries into their skin
so they begin to blend into
Shadows. Shaking dark sweat drenched
hair out of bloodshot eyes. They wear
those eyes like a sheriff’s badge.
I lie with the moths and other softer animals.
Hiding in the rhubarb we listen to the buzzing
the shadows give off like radioactive insects,
Waiting. Until Mother tells me to come inside,
because the savages are out creeping and crawling and raising hell.
She doesn’t like their buzzing,
she doesn’t want me to start.
in parentheses 
enter the discussion: