We continue to linger
like the lint
in the trap of our imperial leaders,
awaiting the day
when the door
opens and an air-laden scoop digs us
out from under the hand towels
of obscurity.
From there, our only hope is
to be placed on a suitable pedestal
and hewn into
adorable pet-like creatures,
so we may be given a loving home and
provided with
adequate nutrition for the rest of
our natural lives (or until
that owner dies,
whichever happens to come first).
WHARVED 