ensnared even without knowing,

a spell that is alive, the adapts

turns permanent when the weary sleep

for fatigue has set in, as calculated,

when eyelids begin to close, the same

sign over and over, dulls

the brain. anticipated.

played, like a rat rushing out

to greet a friend, for fairy tales do

make it seem like all beings

have a little of heaven, choose the right thing to do

isn’t that lovely child?

the mocker grins as claws sink deep,

into heart

feeling no pain because the pleasure

is mistaken, not able to point

at directions when a compass has long been

buried.

trampled, broken, smashed

our smashed faces intertwined

the earth is over crowded

with too much efficiency for some,

others not so much,

no longer useful, adapt to what?

the narrator sings a song,

dull and sleepy like: maybe this is all

a dream after all

the mice said to the cat,

then let’s play catch the rat!

as it scuttles about,

aiming for a hole, finding none,

again it was all planned out: your game

not mine,

and the ending i do not need to guess.