When lascivious for shifty substance
the hungry will bite at whatever resists
grasping at golden turned-over lumps
life lives on its own swallowed impetus.
Undergone influence of plunderage
pinched at an edge of a chaste change
a plaque of beyond oily with strange
markings like on a sarcophagus.
Standing at the side of a leering hole
opening into spheres of many coals
where stories are tossed if not told
well out of reach of introversion.
A duel erupted between gulp and sip
as always happens at cusp of lip
when the gullet of mind on one side tips
the other opinions into indulgence.
So what will it be my brother tongue
what today pleases salty sister
the canvas carrying the inspiring picture
or the ornate frame around the precipice?