by on August 29, 2019 :: 0 comments

Forgive them their complacency,
that wooly paradox weighing them
to the couch, night after night,
a-shiver with unrealized longing—
it’s only the insoluble succor
of delight, pent with nerves rabid
over warmth and comfort,
savory crumbs lodged
in an ever-increasing diastema
that contorts the smile
into near coprophagic lunacy.

– Gregory Ross

editors note:

All they care is that you swallow, swallow, swallow… – mh clay

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