Transmutation

You consume raw life in jaw dislocating bites,
chewing slowly like a strange multi-gut herd
of were-friesans, expect us to feed at your udders,
poor orphans we; strain for nourishment or wither.

Gilt edged men of letters, ghost writers of The Word,
you self-perpetuating academic oligarchy,
no hint of matrimonial right of access for adoring public;

we who are wedded to your nonsense, that only a fustydusty
study, creaking hide bound minds of more of your kind
in a cannabilistic rite of passages, some from behind,
could produce inspiration through filtered rumination,
pre-digested, pathogen free, for the likes of we.

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minor ed. 15.10.10