Sunday, August 23, 2020

Much Worse Things You Could Be

The prospect of expulsion
from the only realm of being
one had known to some
unknown zone,
without warning –
say, the zone of floral
quadrupedal hominids,
which, had one thought
it possible, was what
one would, at all costs,
have done all one could
to have avoided - eh bien,
screw that, honey, it’s a blast
to be a sunny spiritual paragon
in caravans of other floral
quadrupedal hominids
all fêted as divinities
by those unfortunate
enough to not be them.
There are much worse things
you could be, my sweet
petite verisimilitude
of pater-noster

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