I can hear you roaring dully,
like a lonely lion
announcing across the desert
that dinner is ready.
I want to shut you out,
but I can’t.
Because you are everywhere.
You bubble up like muck
from the depths of the earth,
and you are muck now,
squelching slime into the air,
cackling as you do.
You’ve changed again.
I see you have arms now.
Don’t give me your hand to shake.
I want to shield my eyes
and block my ears
and run away.
But oh, your grotesquerie
is so intoxicating,
is so delicious.
You’ve tricked me, phantasm.
You look good to eat,
so I’ll take a bite.
Forget what I said:
I’ll shake your hand.
I’ll laugh and applaud.
Then I’ll smile
as you pull me down
into the dirt.
****
Photo by Naturelady (Pixabay)
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