Pandora and the Barfly

He buzzed by
Then circled back around and
Hovered,

Swirling and dashing

only more agitated,
making insect demands
before landing- quite hurriedly.

He begged for the 

Fair Maiden to
Open Up, prying and poking

around.
She refused, stalling and countering-

'It depends upon how you carry me'-
she offered and dared.

Relentless in circles,
Fruitless nonetheless no movements
no lift nothing was felt.

She did not even know

Herself
All that was contained
Inside. Why
No smell crept out and still-

Attracting
So many flies, diligent and
short-lived, by Nature.

Light seekers and crap keepers,
Yet none, not a single one, 

nor a swarm
would lift her 

Wait. 

Painting by Édouard Manet (1832-1883),  'Un bar aux Folies-Bergère' c. 1881 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Cave man

 

I stepped up to the mouth

of the dark hole,

a flicker catching my curious

necessity for heat 

as in a fondness for friction

something strong stirs

in this cave

I come to find

as my eyes adjust

not some majestic dragon

as projected upon the moist stone wall

but a shriveled and scarred ogre

unseen to himself and flesh burnt

by the venomous flames uncoiling

from his own sharp tongue

lashing.

The smoke and singe surround every crevice

a decrepid and deathly stench 

steams from his chest where 

his heart rotted in the darkness

called some body and vacant vessel

vulnerable and afraid 

of all the elements

that make 

a man. 

Photography: Albert Grünwedel (July 31, 1856 – October 28, 1935), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.