A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Sunday, June 14, 2020

The wild of the call

Remember, animals and plants
and fungi and germs and shit

are basically bullshit. They do whatever
they need. It isn't a question of ethics,
they fucking do it and boo hoo if you're
the nutrient source! Some mother fucker
comes roaring out of the weeds and cuts you
in half with its thorax, leg-plates chattering
all the time in mindless glee like a fucking
zombie, a killing machine. Answer the call.
Answer the call. It's not about survival
or propagation just need. Or some fucking

hungry root busts your protective covering
and snakes in, looking for a free meal
and next thing you know, you've become
a bunch of berries. It's cycle cycle cycle
- always uphill, and in the end what've you
got? Same ol' grim and dispiriting death match.
No wonder the ancients used to turn to thoughts
of reincarnation. Who'd want to miss the next
round of this? Fucking morons. They all became
mushrooms

Biology's the nasty science man. Nasty business,
and any freak or specimen you see you may
be assured - that fuck knows better than you do
how to make a living. Chilling, chilling shit,
this

No comments: