Feeding the gators again
because they are chomping at the bits
of information
books, myths, stories,
hungry for
motifs and meanings and themes
while lurking below the
cerebral fluid.
They leap and snap,
restless in the swampy depths
and growing too large for their
everglade enclosure.
Some people come to see them,
due to morbid curiosity
or to sacrifice idle time,
but such farms draw fewer crowds
than they once did,
everyone preferring
what is equivalent to
five-second cat videos
viewed on cell phones.
But I know that someday these gators
will leap and snap hold of
in a feeding frenzy,
dragging me in,
my pets
consuming the mind that
once mastered them,
as they do
everyone else
who dares to keep
in their backyard.

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