Member-only story
Religion
Do they detect their own tumbling?
I flick the ants that walk across my table,
watch them rocket from one place to another
faster than I can see. And in that new place,
the ants continue walking as if nothing
happened. What do they think occurred?
Do they detect their own tumbling?
Do they wonder why the stars
are in a new position? Do they blackout
from the gravity of their improbable ride?
I am a god this day — I flick them
from night to morning, force some space
between their many eyes, leave them
to a midnight rave and REM.
I arrive to manhandle nature’s greatest
creatures, dressed in the skin of others.
I will turn them into something more,
teleport them beyond all senses — the moment
abuse becomes a new religion.
©️ Trapper Markelz 2021
If you enjoyed reading this poem, please consider: