We are in the throat now.
Necks
 
are the hardest animal
parts to scale.
 
We are in the throat,
disingenuous
 
with the night-time sleeping
arrangements for ulcers.
 
We are in the throat
now as the caterpillar
 
and butterfly parent
completely partitioned worlds.
 
We prick light
on a throat
 
culture
of entitlement, remarkable
 
for its moth-eaten,
tonsillar birthright.
 
Hospitals are being infected
by their inhabitants’
 
throats.
We are in the throat
 
trying
to make a difference
 
to our sporadic communities.
Insurrection
 
is metabolism practiced
with spit.
 
We are in the throat now
sharing the same spoon.