Measure of a Man by pattimast

Measure of a Man

Strange that all we are's a bit of pock marked plasma;
Fish scales and staring eyes, hair and claws,
Skin tissue with some epoxy seeping through.
A bit of webbing, a bit of cartilage;
Rib cages and tail bones,
Grit and gristle.
A greasy, leaky mess of tendons,
Femurs and clavicles;
Inedible at best, but mostly valued
For our complex brain;
Itself only jello, without any mold
And less substantive than play-doh
More nerveless than the amoeba:
The mushroomed foreskin of our endless curiosity.

Published December 22, 2009 Write a comment
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Jack Williams
Delightfully grotesque!
 
Lillian Susan Thomas
This is beautiful! The title pulls you in, every word adds to the effect, and the last line is a stunner!
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Fay Slimm
What a last line ! ! ! where do they all emerge from - these rare bites of poetically digested life ? great write.
 
poeticpiers
And yet a cannibal would have to disagree we are but protein after all
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Pendemic
Once again I am mesmerized by your imagery. I agree the last line is a classic.
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Susan Jarvis
The most breathtakingly mesmeric anatomy lesson I've ever had! The image of 'our complex brain' is indelibly printed upon my 'mushroomed foreskin...' ;)
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Kerry O'Connor
Wow! That last line is mind-blowing, P. I've never seen 'foreskin' used in quite such an original way. Quite brilliant as always.
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