Roll the Bones
we are the last ones left alive
you and me, and them
encased and calcified
tossed about a vacuum
by a spiral arm with a fascination
for near misses and pyrotechnics
roll the bones; roll the bones
flesh and fur, pebbles and rocks
claws and teeth, fire and brimstone
perhaps we’ve been stashed away
locked up and then picked through
fashioned and haphazardly satchelled
feral felines fighting it out in burlap
until the powers that be
can decide who among us
is salvageable
communicate or be obliterated
you have to be known to exist
judgement is the invisible hand stamp
that confirms dues paid
for acceptance
into the human race
it isn’t success
so slow down, jack rabbit
the fix is in; there’s no finish line
just blackened ruins behind
and far-out-there prairies ahead
carpeted with stiff-bladed grasses
that depend on your speedy ways
to slice and cut
I was just standing here
blowing in the wind, looking sharp
that cat just came up and ran into me
wait ... we were talking
about rabbits
and not bleeding cats
where’d the bunnies go
down into rough-woven tunnels
and steel-wool warrens
safe, sound, and hair-shirt insulated
they heard there were some cats
on the prowl
we are the last ones left alive
you and me, and them
encased and calcified
tossed about a vacuum
by a spiral arm with a fascination
for near misses and pyrotechnics
roll the bones; roll the bones ...
Roll the Bones is copyright Pryde Foltz
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