Funny
how we animals can set a time to gather,
and gather we do,
to imbibe keystone poison
made in some factory,
we don’t know,
we don’t care to know,
as it fuses with our blood
and makes us careless to the talking and dancing and flirting and fighting
we claim to enjoy,
if we can remember
through the two-way mirrors that
our stiff blood glazes over our eyes,
reflecting in on ourselves our own incomprehensible
madness,
revealing to others our all too comprehensible
likeness,
making them laugh warily if they haven’t recognized that
they can’t stand the sight of us all
trying to claw our ways back
down the fractals of our lives
to childhoods we’re always
forgetting.