I The Digger
I know I am immature
Yet I know I will find it
In the denied
In the forgotten
In the shamed
In the beaten and browbeaten
A slavishly self imposed prison
In each of you
Everywhere I aim
My special powers see
Telltale signs of
Complication
Making so obvious
Your trigger-prison
In seemingly empty fields
Minute quarks of jailed
Potential dash in and out
Of existence...
You inadvertently show me
Where the hidy-holes wait
All my dogged hunting
Senses dive and dig
My big nostrils notice
One pheromone
My big eyes notice
One cheek tick
My big ears notice
One stifled syllable
All of my own reenergized
Slavish joining dives down
You will not see my maniac digging
Tail wagging with certainty anticipating
The base dirt of your discontent
Flying between my back legs
Yet you may notice that hole
With your vulnerable dirt flying out
And your rising bile
There... I The Digger have
Inevitably found your mood
No comments:
Post a Comment