Monster Mouth

Suspect imperfection:
your lips flap incessantly,
opening wide a gap in an
otherwise vapid expression,
every breath you take is made
to expel worthless information.

Suspect imperfection:
your lips part and we see
you have no heart and you
will not depart until
you have your way
and, despite your success,
your life has little consequence,
but you're Jesus Christ in
your eyes and

psychologists and mirrors dismiss
the diagnosis of narcissists
as you stretch open your
face and deny your humanity,
devour all that you deserve
and digest the world.

And you suspect no imperfection.