Caged Animals Fountain of Youth

In solitary confinement
he sits
and waits.

He
sits
and waits
and paces
and growls
like a caged animal
in an iron-barred coffin.

No one pays him
a bit of attention
except for the flies
sucking at his sweat
as if it's the fountain of youth.

He craves food -
his stomach in agony.
Soon, he'll be blood thirsty.
He wipes the sweat off of his brow
and licks it clean off of his hands.
He wants more.
He needs more.

Growling.
Growling.
Growling.
Is that the sound
of an empty stomach
or an angry man?
It's all the same
to him
anymore.

Pacing.
Growling.
Sitting.
Waiting.

Never would he have fathomed
he'd go down this way.
Not like this.
He was a fighter.
A fighter.
A fight . . .
A figh . . .
A fi . . .

Buzz goes the demon fly,
Living happily on the mans death.
Swat goes the blood thirsty man
as he gulps down the demon fly.
"So much for the fountain of youth."

November 5, 1998