Aposematism by Betsy Mars

Aposematism

Porcupines have quills, skunks have their funk.
Hedgehogs roll away, leaving predators
to seek easier prey. Tortoises withdraw
into the home they carry. Rabbits
to their burrows. Even snails find refuge
from unwanted touch, and sea anemones, asexual,
retract into the cavity of their mouths
when under attack, armed to sting.
Poison dart frogs reveal
their toxicity through their skin,
pigments screaming caution.

The poor human
I am— evolved
with no protections,
offering no warnings—

I roll over, present you
the soft risk of my belly.

*

Betsy Mars is a prize-winning poet, photographer, and assistant editor at Gyroscope Review. Her poetry has been published in numerous journals and anthologies. Recent poems can be found in Minyan, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Sheila-Na-Gig, and Autumn Sky Poetry Daily. Her photos have appeared online and in print, including one which served as the Rattle Ekphrastic Challenge prompt in 2019. She has two books, Alinea, and her most recent, co-written with Alan Walowitz, In the Muddle of the Night. In addition, she also frequently collaborates with San Diego artist Judith Christensen, most recently on an installation entitled “Mapping Our Future Selves.”