Monday, March 03, 2008


Please avoid looking back at me
with cold contemptuous eyes
as you slither swiftly forward
intent on anothers death,
that you may live.

My spirit chases you,
since I cannot.
That sensing flickering tongue,
that muscular rapture...
onwards! onwards!
to your life
and someone's death.

Through moist grass,
dank earth, decaying leaves,
and petrified flowers
a move towards that grey mouse,
innocent, nibbling
at something. Something nice. Quite unaware.
Of how time is so fleeting.

One moment in the warm sun,
blue skies, a breeze through its fur.
The next, steel coils
pushing air outwards from its lungs
razor fangs stabbing the body
A descent into time's quicksand
via your stomach.

A look backwards at me again,
in seething contempt
for my pompous values and speeches
about sacred life.

And then onwards! onwards!
beneath the brambles deep inside that hole
you call home.
The mouse digests within
and you look coldly at the blackness about.

My spirit shrivels and retreats.

1 comment:

Shankari said...

A vivid vuisally powerful work- it slithered up a few chills up my spine. I reacted physically.