Croc nibbles fastidiously on
Leavings of yesterweek's meaten roll
Pemmican wet-leavened and softened
Mama wouldn't know him now or want him
And spits it out reflectively.
"Nature is not red only in tooth and claw
But:
white-leached
brown-rotting
yellow-bloated
transforming through green
Each with its own delicate savour
Odour ranged and marshalled in position
From mushroom-pungent through tart to sweat's sweetness
Tones, modes, quavers on the palate.
What's to be eaten is to be eaten.
Ripples lap it silent on the rock
Wedged calm-throated under ledge.
Waters suffused with fish-sperm and my piss
Suffuse flesh in turn, stretch cells,
Fulfil their immanent growth potential
Hidden calculus of membrane's dialectic:
Greater enclosure or density's depth?
To this I but bring resolution.
Closure.
I liberate and make available
To the Cosmos - children, future, hope
Energy stored in the past, in strata
Potential for warmth and photoluminescence.
And yes, I nourish myself
Wax and grow strong.
As do you.
My shit feeds you.
So please - object by all means:
The splashing marks your presence.
Go on
Feeding the hand that bites you.