Like Kudzu


—where to re-begin
down which beaten track
down which rabbit hole
around which loop of labyrinth
in which cul de sac
along which stretch of sin?

it’s not Goliath we’re up against
but his un-metaphoric me-first twin,
the behemoth of battered dreams we are
and stand before with tiny tarnished stone and sling,
blinded by the mirrored sun behind the thing
whose cranium itself is bruised and baked,
it’s this looming Frankenstein of ours
by which we take and take and take and take

we’re like kudzu blooming,
blooming like crazy blazing mushrooms
we see what ignorant intent can bring
we see this mangy dog of ours
we’ve not been grooming

we stop our ears as inattention sings
we’re left to our devices
which we must not load again
with shit to fling

by Jim Culleny

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