Mandibles

The archaeologists have been in the office again.

You've come to work through the night when

you find their shoe-boxes shelved with the books,

then face the other way, try to write, to look

at the dark-glazed view into the quad.

You turn around, fingering the lip of a box.

Page 88

Nobody said, Don't Touch. This one's labelled

‘Mandibles’. As you slide the lid, a smell

of dried mouths and subtle rot.

Each piece of jaw in a plastic pocket