POETRY
Being the Good Host
Meditations on Fear 3 • who runs the show

I used to think I wore my fear Like some claustrophobic overcoat A bit clinging But still needed in the stiff wind
But now I know It’s my fear That wears me — I’m just a useful rube who Donates a blood supply And keeps him warm As he goes about his business Of swallowing everything he sees
So I linger like some hostage Fallen in love with her kidnapper I think This is who I am — I am afraid This is all of who I am… There is no other me Just my fear With his hungry heart
This trickster has Slipped me over him Taken my body and my name — Like I am translucent Just some skin stretched Over the frame Of his magnificent infection
But fear — Ravenous to the last — Seeks further form Demands the objects For his subject So he can further incarnate And I? Why I comply…
I say Come colonise and take your shape In my heart In my body In my work When I am in the passenger seat of the car When I am watching my tv When I am walking down the street Send me your finest rioters So they may smash my glass And grab all that is Before them. This loot will do Or that loot will do As long as your greedy beasts Get fed
I know no other dance now Just the swoon Of my sacrifice on his altar As I stab my dying animal Again and again
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This is poem 3 in a series of 5 about fear. Each one can be read on its own or as part of the series. If you like, you can see the series here (with the link updated as each piece is published). Thank you for reading!
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A shout-out to the very courageous Andromeda Jude — this poem is viesceral, but beautifully written & well worth the read….
