Ambrosia’s Lie

And here we are, once again,
when all the world has twisted and disappeared,
and all the crimsoned bloody lilies have drowned.
It’s smothered on your face, the warm salty feel of me
has changed your bleached dry façade. Inside,

Inside there is only a haven of bees
Buzzing, buzzing, buzzing – around your stomach
up through your nose and mouth, eternally
searching from the ambrosia swallowed so thoughtlessly.
It’s not there little fly, it is hidden.
The pure golden substance, once so clear is so obviously
gone… replaced by a clever act.
Well, we’re in the third scene and there’s still nothing there –
Pray! Where are you? Surely not depressed below the

Six feet mark
where only the worms and the bugs and the slugs
can slither around such a lie as yours.
I would laugh had you not ripped out my throat,
and I would sing had not you ripped out my heart.
Well fine – squeeze, squeeze little man until
It has dripped from your face and landed on the ground.
Look down.
Ah yes, there I am.