Power in its simplest form
Returns itself into the void
It can never be consumed
In the gnashing of teeth
Or the burning of anger
Simple chewing breaks
Ire into swallowable chunks
Chasing satisfaction wanes
After its twin is caught and
Though tasty, does not fill
A belly bloated with hunger
For importance and success
We suck the marrow
Out of life with no thought
To tomorrow’s meal
Second helpings call to us
Through the halls of buildings
Late night when we should be home
Saying grace for little birds
Lying dead in gravy on dinner tables
We eat dreams in one gulp
Never savoring the incense
Of the burnt offering
On commerce’s altar
The offering of ourselves
And all who we say we love
Because they are dressed
In disguises of our fabrication
Reason for climbing down
Ladders in our mind
To sup with our egos
© NP 9/12
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