---

I admit it's odd
that I can crawl across your face
and you don't wince


I even flutter to the tip
of your lip
nibble where you used to nibble
flick a redundant disease or two down
the gaping hole of your mouth


I circumnavigate your wrist
in honor of the generations of us
you swatted into bug oblivion


to think
this is the palm
that once reeked with our blood
the fingers
stained with wing and torso
of unfortunates
just doing their insect job


if life were fair
I'd crush you with my wing
the fish would dangle you
from a hook
the cow would give up grass
for man steak


look
here come the worms
slithering in your direction

let us see now
who answers to the name 
of bait

---

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Leading Edge, Amazing Stories and Illumen. Latest books, “Between Two Fires” “Memory Outside The Head” and “Guest Of Myself” are available through Amazon. Has won a Rhysling award for genre poetry.