A base topic;
Base, basic, basal, and
Don’t touch my ganglia.
If one could only pay attention,
I am telling a story, convoluted though it maybe.
At the core of the apple, idea, person,
The necessary flesh
Is: the truth;
Some arsenic, and the occasional worm
Wriggling its way surface-word,
To poison the lips.
We are flawed and pitted
One against the other
But I didn’t start out to write about that.
Back to the root.
A baby born to need and wail and love
Wrapped in a cloak of abuse and neglect and set free
May reach deep within
May become something beautiful.
And here’s the difficulty,
May become a monster.
And when we meet them, how can we tell the difference?
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