Reapers Delight
Dearest Reaper
Your peepers look. Worse for wear.
Seen as an affront. Am I.
To you? I question. Why?
While you have not. And blindly serve without a thought. The instiller. Of the I’ll swill confounding. I whom it’s attributed.
Am I not...Honest?
I’n the least if need be?
Do agree we. To some juxtaposition?
Believe who? Him? Or his image?
I guess you could call this a solitary scrimmage.
My candor. (The “Lit” at which your peering) Alone. Deserves possibly.
A return to... Not.
From the. Naught.
Body list.
A place run afoul. Fraught with haughtiness.
For I’m just the pot. Where’s the kettle in all of this?
My plea.
A not thoughtless beast. Conceit. I pre-empt animal. So much of my crimes. Designed intelligent. And thanks to you. Intangible.
I’m the one you had in mind. After all. A fine young cannibal. So Judge & Jury. Would you now execute?
I who is tangible.
You.