Litkicks Message Board Archive

FLESHPOT

Posted to Action Poetry




Like the hunter, swiftly, deftly moves
Scoping out my prey with a need

Another timeless bow to aim
Pulses erratic, big eyed wonder beckons

To quicken the kill, battle
With the perfect precision, skill, and power

Locked in on my hopeless target, I wait...
Seems like an eternity since I have eaten

Substenence no longer reprieve for my hunger
The ecstasy that lies beneath the surface

Making me salivate, to forge with teeth
Tearing at this ragged flesh I could create

The feast of all saintly beings
Feverish, I let them turn their eyes from me

Through the bushes, I point my weapon
Releasing this built up frustration

Nailing my target, at first light
For my boiling stockpot tonight

Amidst bay leaves, and rations of garlic
Tasty vittles of something so solid

Passing through my lips, if only for that moment
Bliss will form within these tiny droplets

Blood, tears, all of the years I've waited
Longing for the perfect sensation

To fill my moistened britches
Rid of the barren land, new found riches

On which to feast or famine
I'd much rather eat as the King of the table

Than pilfer the villages for seconds
Afterthoughts from other peasants

This is my time to sink upon morsels
That belong only to me, I've lived for such greed


No longer shall I starve, when there is plenty to eat.