I Know You. You Are Food, and I Am You.

synthetic sleep

manufactured weep

a layperson’s tooth and nail


a drive to strive

to truth non-contrive

and to be the onward sail


a man brings a snoring, satiated animal to fits of delirium tremens

and tells it with potency that he wants to be salient

the animal pads its pointy ears with giant, clawed paws,

shows the man his gnarly back,

and while turning away like a slowly moving armored tank

it grunts, “I know you. You are food, and I am you.”


a man now casts a line

the tide comes and his thighs are chilled

a bite does tug at the rod in his hands

after a nothing-struggle, he answers a wide eyed, gasping, and slippery thing,

“I know you…”