Job Kill

Job Kill

                                                                              on the prowl

in the jungles of

the working force

i slink, shimmering

sleek in my finest fur.

like a panther,  hungry

for days with no meat

nostrils flaring hunting

for the scent that appeals

to my qualifications

setting my sights on

my unsuspecting prey

coming in for the kill

pouncing when the moment

presents itself so that

i may bring down my kill

with proficient expertise

that will be beneficial

enough to sustain

my pride and i

so that I may set offside

keeping guard over the brood

as the golden burgundy sun rests

behind us when day softens

fading into obscure strokes of dusk

while I, fattened, from my kill

lay licking my chops

preening myself

swatting at flies with my

agitated, nervous, twitching tail

after I have wolfed down

my hunters first rights share

with instinctive gratification.

I will watch while the others feast

from the efforts of my

newly acquired job kill.

—©g.a.meeder, 2016®


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