Hidden beneath the skin is a sucking chest wound
A sonic boom sized black hole
Ravenously devouring everything that comes close-
Chairs, tables, animals, and egos
Nothing lasts- it all disappears
Pellmell into the vacuum
Visitors with smooth china faces murmur and smile blandly
Gesticulating with the randomness of modern life
Before they tumble head over heels
Never suspecting they were that close
From oblivion, and a hell of emptiness
Maybe that's why casual human relations
Are distasteful and boring
Like having a tea party on the brink
Of a seething volcano's forthcoming fury
Worrying about two lumps of sugar or three
And if the wind will get up too much
For the embroidered table cloth to hang just so:
If you would only peer over the edge
You'd see the grinning carcasses exposed to the elements
And broken furniture stripped of respectfulness
The veneer of civilization is only a few quarks thick.