by Glenn Currier
How cunning is entropy
in its capture of my planet.
Just a kitten to the touch and appetite
with its chocolate eyes;
it purrs its seductive innocence,
soft as summer butter
slipping through pleasures' honeycomb portals
like the aroma of hot soup.
But once inside
it is a parched, starving hound,
instinct-driven and viscera-bound
sniffing out my life's moments
making time a tapeworm spiral
coiled around foolish hopes of resurrection
kilned in its determined despair
by countless self-lies:
"Just one more won't hurt."
Posted on 02/20/2002
Copyright © 2021 Glenn Currier