I Devour Lotuses

“So they went straightway and mingled with the Lotus-eaters, and the Lotus-eaters did not plan death for my comrades, but gave them of the lotus to taste. And whosoever of them ate of the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus, had no longer any wish to bring back word or to return, but there they were fain to abide among the Lotus-eaters, feeding on the lotus, and forgetful of their homeward way.”
                                                                                                - Homer, Odyssey [Book 9]

Yellow stems,
as pale as the backs
of those that bite
these blush petals,
with an excellence, or elegance
devoid of compassion, or thought.

Or the absence of choice;
The choice always is yours.

Springs birthing
from a body.
Washing clear
the mollusc’s prints.
Your sunlit streets
shove all but yours
into a deeper abyss.

Such is the case of a life of a gift;
The choice always, is yours.

(empires) tumble,
(emperors) perish,
(mechanisms) destruct.
ministers flourish.

Flounder ways
to season the founder.
Vines wriggling around beds,
flourishing eyes
as screens on your palms.

Blip’s on your forehead too,
Downers, you’re all downers.

The choice, always, is yours.