The (F) Rying Woman.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

to pry upon his weakness and to discover
some artifacts from his house is her past time

and every hour when there is a break from the
wanton hours and the monotonous menu of the day

she opens the usual window and watch what the
worm is doing inside the terrarium

she records the possibility that this can be a landmark
of history and significant for what others say as a phenomenon

other people's lives matter
and sometimes the worm that looks at her too asks: why?

the worm, and she does not know this, is also prying upon her
her shrinking breasts, her skin that looks like dry tobacco leaf

her life that to the worm has become more of a raisin
stuffed inside a boxed, with a history of having been dried by the sun

the worm is fair though, in its latest description
she is still sweet though neutral in smell, and deserves still to be liked to be eaten someday

p.s. the worm remarks, kids will like her.