Helminthphobia

By Luisa A. Igloria on August 1, 2024

There's a man in our neighborhood who likes to run
barefoot around the campus and the edge of the stadium,

in rain as well as on hot days. People who do this swear 
you can really feel the earth, and improve  both foot strength 

and stability. After all, our prehistoric ancestors did exactly 
this, running away from woolly mammoths or from their head-

hunting enemies with not a rubber or leather sole 
on their feet. It's so sweet to see children kick off 

their sandals and twirl  on soft grass, or track little footprints 
on the shore like plump sandpipers. But when I was a child, 

I was never allowed to play barefoot in the garden; my mother 
was afraid that tapeworms could break through my skin 

and travel up my intestines, where they'd lay their eggs 
and start a colony. It wasn't until I was older that I learned 

not all nematodes are parasites of human hosts. 
But recently I saw a magnified image of a tiny nematode 

which scientists had fed with fungi. Its mouth doubled 
fearfully in size, and looked like the fanged porthole 

of a front-loading washing machine, or a giant blue hole. 
Clearly a maw, an eager jaw, ready to spring into action.