Ouroboros

April 27 2018

The snake eating its tail.

A closed loop, wriggling and writhing

that inch-by-inch constricts,

a tightening noose

consuming itself.

The mystical circle

that represents wholeness,

the insoluble knot

cinching closer and closer.

Like the question that answers

and so endlessly asks,

tautologically

circling back and back.

Like the life too-examined

that ruminates and frets,

too mired in the past

to move ahead.

Like the toxic vices

of greed and pride,

so self-referential

self-satisfied.

Oh, how the serpent is despised.

Its muscled mass, priapic strength

that lethal tongue

blindly tasting its prey.

The quick-silver slither, that whispers like silk,

the silent strike

the alien killer.

Its cool dry skin.

Its jaw unhinged, swallowing holus-bolus.

And like the ouroboros

how we can eat ourselves up

with envy, regret

self-loathing.

A rustling in the tall grass

stealing closer and closer.