Silencing tyrants
smells like bacon, taste like chicken
Brain pans, frying all that
sweet meat.
no way to kill it, change it,
force growth or challenge logic
left improperly
wounded, dragging wet eyes
waiting by the back
door, mewling victimizations.
Justifications will be made
progress will not be
invited to dine.
Frogs in the kettle
water set to boil
accepting crumbs calling
it a feast, sharpening steely
knives, hoping for relief
sentenced to illogical boundaries
barbed wire booby-trapped
hair-triggers set to stun
inside the round
there are no gates out,
exit signs all pointing
fingerless at each other
conditioning acceptance
grinding surrender
preserving the
fork tender.
HA! 2016
artwork: HA! oils 2007? (sold)
