Friday, June 12, 2020

The Munch



There’s an insatiable hunger
chewing at the edges of society
I have deemed it, “The Munch”.
It’s out there, on the fringe,
Munching.

The Munch eats everything in its
path, never stopping, relentlessly
feeding on the joys, miseries and
the cavalcade of emotions we’re capable of.
Like locust’s jaws scissoring back and forth.

I can hear it in the soft echoes of night,
in the chants and screams of the righteous
and the unjust.
A crunching, munching, mashing, chewing,
sickly sound swallowing everything.

The Munch eats the will of the brave,
the courage of the weak, the minds of
the smart, the curiosity of the dim,
the backbone of the wise and the
moral fiber of the elected.

The Munch eradicates fields of
thought, of will, of empathy and
compassion. It chomps down into
the essence of humanity, taking
giant gaping chunks from us.

We hardly notice. The Munch is
actually quite small.
Microscopic. Infinitesimal.
Its work is done over long stretches
of time.

Munching in the dark,
Munching in the sunlight,
Munching in the fields,
munching in the cities,
Munching for millennia.   

Until one day,
all that’ll be left,
is The Munch.
And we’ll be the empty table settings
from the third course meal.

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