who was the poet
who wrote about
the beast slouching towards us all ?
cos i can sense
its shamanic mandibles
& archaic gait
in the treeline of the woods
&
in the shadows from the walls
its breath hot as fresh bitumen
gripping its aggregate base
~
it will cook & carve & consume us
in celebration of its construction
like the french do
with a leg of lamb
with a leg of lamb
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