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)