Talking To The Man Lecturing Me With His Mouth Full

The man says I’m too savage.
Says we all need less blood in the mouth these days.

The man says, as much as was torn from you, that much you must reject.
I tell him he cannot know what the tearing is like and it continues.

I tell him how many of us are covered in fresh bite marks.
I tell him I can see him picking his teeth.

He says, you are right, that biting was bad, but do not bite back.
I say, you are right, the biting is bad, which cheek do you want to bite now?

He says, I think you do not understand what you invite with your biting.
I say, do you think I want to be eaten forever?

I ask him, do you think I want to eat you as you have eaten so many?
I tell him how sick we are with his love of our blood.

I tell him we do not want to get sick on his blood.
I tell him we are barely moving from lack of blood and muscle.

He says, but you cannot meet biting with biting and win.
I tell him, we don’t bite to win but to stop your biting.

He says, don’t bite me, for I am afraid of your hunger.
I tell him we can talk when he stops chewing.

I tell him we can all see he’s been chewing this whole time.
I tell him enough, stop talking to me with your mouth so full and red.

He cannot spit out my flesh and blood to answer.
I think he is less afraid of choking than he is of being bitten.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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