The Animal within
Observations on a public bus
A cacophony of sniffs
Like Tapir's in a tiff
Would be all to insignif
But these pigs have quiffs
Pony's tails,
Bee hives, spider eyes
And painted nails
Tiny vegan bracelets woven from Kale
These pigs have a vagueness
And are not at all plague less
Their shapelessness
Hidden by their fancy dress
A squeaky clean outside
To try to hide the depressed
Societys' uniform
Like a chainmail vest,
Its heavy to adorn
Fully ladened with detest
It's all too apparent as I watch and inspect
Part Science
Part warfare
It's fun to detect
Peoples' outer language
The hidden cries
The animal within
Camouflaged with lies
A natural shape,
Forced through a mechanical hole
Fighting to be at the front of the que
Just to sell its' soul
Mating dances and struts of dominance
A pound of flesh
The price to pay to be prominent
Lipo, Botox, Boob Job joke
Tummy Tuck, Gastric band
Now you're broke
Physically and mentally
Your flames are understoked
Your natural fire grows tired
Of the reality you've conspired
Your retardant life
Your redundant strife
To rebel against your oppressors
The monkey men who lead us
Instead of Professors
About the Creator
Jacobie Jones
An up and coming writer hailing from the U.K.
Jacobie loves letting his imagination run wild, especially if it ventures into darkly comic places.
Keep reading
More stories from Jacobie Jones and writers in Poets and other communities.
Two Wrinkles In Time
It is pointless to run, my darling, because sixty seconds ago, I will kill you. My blade will have sliced reality open right in front of you. It will have first pierced it as it would a bed sheet left hanging to dry, flapping in the wind on a Sunday afternoon. But the metal will have drawn a line in the air that the ghostly tear will have followed. Then I, La Dyablès, machete firmly in hand, will have emerged from what your mind, at the time, could only interpret as the other side of here—whatever that means to you. I know. I have seen that look on the faces of countless unlucky… clients. You will not have been the first nor the last to try and reneg on a riches for soul contract only to present this visage to me when I come to collect.
By Lily Séjor5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.