What is it you want from me?

To splay you open
Peer into that head

Haughty death leering
Baby
Young
Old
Ancient
Dead
Never born
Hateful things from

Here
There
Coming to fruition

Why keep on it
Why rut it into nothing

Sex it
To birth

To chop it for the rats to eat
Milk it for the flies to drink

Where is it
You are going

If not
Nowhere.

© Copyright A. Marie Kaluza 2014

This poem is featured in Bare Bones – you can get it here along with dozens of other new poems!