The great bullfrog

Let me bother you - a bullfrog's song
Is sweeter than milk when night's
Aged father taps the cobbles hungry
For blood & bone to gnaw.
It is beautiful than say - dying stars,
Imploding suns, tattered universes
Because the frog breathes here -
Alive in that terrible silence, it
Jumps - great leaps of sudden joy,
It tongues the naked flesh of flies
In the quickest gasps of wonder.
The fly screams an eternal subsonic,
it struggle its wings broken in the
Indefinite trauma of the bullfrog's
Savagery, it contemplates death
Within the warm sticky wetness
Of the bullfrog's tongue - it learns,
At last, of fear before it gasps its last.
The bullfrog is powerful.
It subjugates the pond, the puddle,
The stagnant waters of smaller things.
It takes life & calls it a blessing -
The bullfrog is the king of the world.
It sits on its throne of water lilies
Spread like barges on the warm
Brown of its dirty sea.
The water lily does not care
Who sits on her face as long as
She is allowed the chance to breathe.
The bullfrog chews her flowers
For dessert & presses her into the
Bed of the sluggish pond with the
Writ of its distended gut, the slow
Puzzle of its swallowing throat,
It's bulging eye, the sallow slimy
Redness of its hungry lips.
She cannot say no.
She pities the flies their quick lives
& gather their flimsy wings to feed
The fishes that watch blob like
From under the bullfrog's anus -
The bullfrog is the king of the world.

For those who can grasp the message & have lived here & for those who do something about it. You are loved, always.

©Osahon Oka, March 2020.