poison burp

shaky and spoiled,
enormous screech-filled limbs.
what is worse than those, scholars in the library could not
tell and foresee.
as if they plant a giant
joystick that punctures its plug
in-between the bone marrow and
the soul.
screaming to the crowd,
offering total control and possession,
in exchange for nothing but their clumsiness.
they crave orders, eating them until their belly surpasses
my eyes’ perspective.
they crave for something visually-bigger than what
they are capable of.

subtle whines are their language of craving,
and it poisons everyone who is sitting
right next to them.
but our thighs are chained down to earth.
we were born to burp smile-shaped poison bubbles.