Roddy Williams – The Atheist Poet

Food Chain (2009)

That expression
vulnerable to predators
hovered far too long beside her monitor;
a hummingbird
ears a mere blur
about to turn or dip for nectar

exposed and trapped

as the world stopped to hear her heartbeat.

Panicked into its thrum
she fled into her mask
zipped away to a hubbub hide
a smalltalk undergrowth
away from the desks.

The others, worrying at the bones
of a Masterchef discussion
cackled, hooted, snapped and
scrabbled for some level in the order

had missed the moment.

I have my kill concealed
among the roots
swivel chairs, wheels, power cables
to savour later when they’ve all
gone home to roost.

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