Meteor Lactation Poem by Mihaela Pirjol

We are suckling-babies at the nipples of this planet,
with a ceaseless, insatiate voraciousness for life;
all the sap of Earth: all the lactation of the Mother-Meteor!

The solar nebulae: the gas, the dust, the stardust;
solidified, liquefied: circled, re-circled, and recycled:

The vital juice of the aeonian volcanic rock:
ever-regenerating, for generations,
in the perpetual circle of life and death…

We rise, tall like corn, and we fall like trees
in the winter freeze: erected, then neglected
in the ugliness of old age, feared by all;

When the spark of cosmic energy diminishes
in the wind of time: such pride, such vitality…
such deception, such debility…

The walls of the soul-room are encapsulating us,
squeezing us in the terrible tenebrae
of our ignorant, interior obscurity:

There is no escape into the primeval,
verdant meadows of youthful dreaming!

No one wants to know what is to be expected
at the end of breast-feeding; at the end of saturation;

We only keep on suckling, until teeth-less, life-less:
until the worms start suckling on us.