Poetry

Resistance and the Dog

Without natural struggle we create our own,

For want of drive, like bees to hive – and similarly drone.

Honey sweet, our meat was canker thought, dog in the dew.

Tongue lolled to side, victim viscid – breaks down in front of you.

I saw you then, beat and battered, frenzy in the eye,

Perfect picture petals, photo-real and stymied by another broken tie.

Do you not regard me as a lyrebird does it’s mate?

Dance and dart, imitate sweet love and mimic hate.

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