The Feast

Take a seat.

Watch the wavering walls

of a world you worried for

collapse.


Take a seat

at this full table filled with

feasting—

the fools and tools,

smirking, snickering and snatching.


Take a seat.

Make sure to

avoid the apples’ glare.

Be attentive,

notice the passion fruits’ stare.

Rejoice,

as the grapefruits simply do not care.


Why?


Because there is no seat for you.

You were the

rice grain that fell out of the bag,

shamefully swept into the dust.


A duck among swans,

you turn away from the table,

never to be seen again.







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