You boil the little armadillo.We watch the water bubblingfrom clear to green, then slice
in half—oh fearful symmetry!Such terrifying design, bristlingwith a painful vanity:
who would have thought it edible?We unfold it leaf by leaf,dip each in lemon butter,
scrape it clean across our teeth.Layer by layer, we near the center—the delectable, devouring heart. [End Page 349]
G. F. Boyer's poetry has appeared in Prairie Schooner, Poetry Northwest, and The Seattle Review. She has received an Academy of American Poets prize and Poetry Northwest's Theodore Roethke Prize. She currently teaches creative writing at Dickinson College and works as a technical writer.