[Don Schaeffer]

True earth
crowded with the familiar facial form:
chalked on concrete
crayoned by children,
squirted on birthday cakes,
in camera with teeth all whitened,
portraited, imitated, formulated.

We don't wake up
until we see it.
We plaster it on
birds or cats or pigs.
We laugh and laugh.
How much these creatures
imitate. want to be us,
replace us, take part with us.

We don't honor the fishes,
except maybe the friendliest kind.
Resent the arthropod, lobster,
spider, insect
that appear to spite us.

[Barbara G.]

Thanks for sharing, Don. I changed the title, though. Thanks again!

[Don Schaeffer]

What I meant was "I'll never eat what has a face." (That's a paraphrase of Joan Baez). I didn't want to use the word face because it appears in the poem and didn't sound right so I looked for a synonym. Thanks for your comment, Barbara.

[Barbara G.]

Thanks for understanding, Don! Appreciate it!

[Don Schaeffer]

-----> :-)