The Beast Without a Stomach

The walls were said to be strong and steady, but water has its way.

Unstoppably pushing and pouring over steel and brick,

it surges, it rumbles, until the city turns thick.

Entire nations eaten alive

by the beast without a stomach.

It swallows everything in its path,

starting with your swollen feet,

causing your next steps to waver

your hands to bend to your knees.

The beast without a stomach comes when called,

the rich man poured billions

to make it so.

And the rich man lives atop the highest ground,

looking down as you fall.

The water rises, red, brown, and heavy.

tossing and pulling its victims along

until it's had plenty.

It knocks you down, like a child playing too roughly.

The beast without a stomach flows over your heads

and keeps eating.

It gargles

you push

it floods

you stop.

And the rich man sighs, blames someone else,

and goes back to his game of golf.

The beast without a stomach

will never have enough.

The beast without a stomach

will devour the living

and blame someone else.