deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Puppet

A pullet fell into the pond yesterday. I didn't hear it. So
I couldn't save it. It drowned. It died of drowning. It died
Of struggling. It died of exhaustion. It died of trying to survive.
It died because it wanted to live. It died because it wanted to live.

But it looked like it was still alive. Floating on the water.
Its legs and wings moved, its head cocked. Because of the water
It looked like it was still alive. The fish pecked it and it moved.
Because the water, the thing that killed it, told a lie.

The pullet is a puppet. The fish held the strings
absinthe
Written by absinthe (Fats)
Published
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