busy fat men
texting
dollars
and sense
what would
happen
if your myths
melted
away like dew
no Hamlet
no Oedipus
Zeus or Wotan
no cross
no burning
bush
would your fat
fall
away
and leave
bones for lions
to gnaw
on the yellow veldt
and what
of the little boy
would he play
beneath the stairs
and dance
on hardwood floors
on a summer's day