that doom-laden theme, reek
of panache and charm –
insidious storied lords,
more numerous than the planets
they’d consume…
Don’t compare you to a slug, many-armed,
vicious teeth, bleeding effluent
as you eat and eat…
Here, in this street, on this beach,
behind an office – anywhere outside
the bubble of the written –
you are nothing but a horror.
Armageddon sells
but this is one world you can’t remake.
When you eat it,
you eat yourself.
You can’t see it coming
but you’re about to swallow your tail.