Less than five inches

surface people
they prick the outside
with their wit
and spread their disease
of smallness infestation
topped with
layer of pre conceived drit
some surface people
dig in, with their dew
claws, to a fresh
wholesome bloodied gut
and suck like hell till
they swell and bloat
till their surface shell
is almost fit to split
when the host is
overcome they
sling their hook..
the job is done
they leave, a shallow grave
and hold a Surface People Rave
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Comments
A rich vein of sable bitterness runs through the heart of this poem; it's almost blinding.
Tightly constructed and elegantly...sparsely written.
Compelling and impressive!!
J ;)
You've nailed me Jason..I must lose this bitterness..though it may be entertaining..like a fur coat..put it in the Narnia wardrobe..I hope I don't get boring..I read some other poems on here..addicted to poetry..I'm an addict alright..I'm getting rattled if I don't get a fix..lol...
Let sparseness go large