the beast in me wants to romp
and enrage the beast in you
tonight
you see my beast is locked up
in chains, a fearful cell--
locked tight
but when yours calls mine
it answers with unabashed
delight
"set me free," it begs
and the shadows grow
with fright
with myself and my desire
my deadly determination that I—I
am right
then your pet answers me and
out they fly—sparks and gunpowder
ignite
the beasts in lethal fury
grievances, protests, objections
recite
unfettered, unchained, and uncontrolled
they spin, they soar, they destroy
they fight
we lock away our agency
our wisdom—our love
from sight
our pets are eating us, my dear!
we look at each other and mourn,
contrite
too late. the damaged flesh
has uncovered our bones and shown us
each bite
there is no return.
but perhaps if we wrestle,
unite?
with every power we strive:
we send those animals back into
the night
when the morning breaks at last
have we gained
insight?
are we richer than before?
do we know any more with
hindsight?
is it worth the blood we bore
as our beasts fought before
daylight?
silence. there is no good
from letting the beast pretend to be
a knight
we have not won this day;
the events do nothing but
indict
we must build cages that hold our beasts
that constrain this ugly temper
more tight
and keep our hands off the latches
because love is always better
than spite
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 10:21 PM UTC
the beast in me wants to romp
and enrage the beast in you
tonight
you see my beast is locked up
in chains, a fearful cell--
locked tight
but when yours calls mine
it answers with unabashed
delight
"set me free," it begs
and the shadows grow
with fright
with myself and my desire
my deadly determination that I—I
am right
then your pet answers me and
out they fly—sparks and gunpowder
ignite
the beasts in lethal fury
grievances, protests, objections
recite
unfettered, unchained, and uncontrolled
they spin, they soar, they destroy
they fight
we lock away our agency
our wisdom—our love
from sight
our pets are eating us, my dear!
we look at each other and mourn,
contrite
too late. the damaged flesh
has uncovered our bones and shown us
each bite
there is no return.
but perhaps if we wrestle,
unite?
with every power we strive:
we send those animals back into
the night
when the morning breaks at last
have we gained
insight?
are we richer than before?
do we know any more with
hindsight?
is it worth the blood we bore
as our beasts fought before
daylight?
silence. there is no good
from letting the beast pretend to be
a knight
we have not won this day;
the events do nothing but
indict
we must build cages that hold our beasts
that constrain this ugly temper
more tight
and keep our hands off the latches
because love is always better
than spite
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