If Giant Wolverines came for my breath,
With buck-teeth and a glow in red-eyes,
To make me into their burger and fries,
Pliant I would be to them, such a treat.
Yes, I am glad to be your little creature:
Watch me plant your flag on the moon-base;
See me on jungle rivers with lost falls,
But too much pain and your savior walk’s alone.
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Copyright 2023 Jeffrey Merk
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