Poem: Beneath

 

Beneath

 

human faces share ancestry

with imps that feast on tepid meat,

 

and what goes on beneath 

is often rotten:

 

dull appraisals, meek thoughts,

festering inside a cranium

to spark then fall moribund.

we are tureens full of nothingness

who slosh on stilt legs zombie-ish.

 

 and so our cheeks  ...  so fidgety

stretch as unhappy as  

as sun-bathed nightcrawlers

which swivel on racks of staggering bone.

 

how much different, in our squirm,

 really

than the obligatory task 

of maggots?

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11/11/25 .. trying 

9/21/25 .. exceedingly awful poem

1/29/24 .... mods

10/12 ... fixed grammar error

Terrible time for our country, add my own heath woes, and now job troubles.   It's a cruel planet most of the time for most people.  I suppose it's possible to be lucky, but only if you close your mind to what's beneath.  Keep in mind, we are probably about to doom the whole planet to nuclear war, which maims all animals and ecosystems... and we'll probably survive, in a new Stone Age, and do it all again, once we reach the nuclear stage a second time... on and on...