04-27-2018, 12:21 AM
The Dinner Table
There were always questions.
We would raise our heads,
and a wire loop would tighten,
making it difficult to breathe.
If we struggled long enough
the wire would dig deeper
cutting rings like a tree as it ages.
Food would lodge in our throats
and escape though in sight
but forever out of reach.
There were always questions.
We would raise our heads,
and a wire loop would tighten,
making it difficult to breathe.
If we struggled long enough
the wire would dig deeper
cutting rings like a tree as it ages.
Food would lodge in our throats
and escape though in sight
but forever out of reach.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson