The Word-Worm

I’m a creature who’ll teach yer ‘bout language, all the ghost-verbs that wander about, cos I gobble the text that’s rejected all the bits that the smart kids rub out.

I eat up the unneeded adverbs, munch on wily waste words tilI I bloat; long-winded leftovers tempt me; surplus syllables slip down my throat.

I lap up the lazy old letters that will never be pegged to a book. I steal them from kids who write pages and give them to kids who are stuck.

You might call me an alphabet freakoid (O, those unwanted words taste so good!) but I see myself more as a hero: in my view, I’m the new Robin Hood.

I’ll lick up the spare prepositions; I’ll guzzle and dribble and slurp. Once I’m full, then I give you fair warning: Sometimes a word-worm must burp…

Pardon me!

Louise Wilford lives and works in Yorkshire, UK. Her work has been widely published, most recently in Bandit, English Review, Failbetter, Goats’ Milk, Jaden, Makarelle, New Verse News, Parakeet, Punk Noir, River and South, Silver Blade, and The Fieldstone Review. In 2020, she won First Prize in the Arts Quarterly Short Story Competition and the Merefest Poetry Competition, and she was awarded a Masters in Creative Writing (Distinction). She is working on a fantasy novel. Blog: https://louviewsnewscues.blogspot.com/