The Elusive Elite

What are you looking at?

You, with the sunken eyes

And the slippery slant.

Trailing subtle corners

To peer at me through a raucous grin

And dubious expectation-

I cannot help you.

The teeth that wear your fixed beam

Are sealed in stone, I understand,

But I cannot do as you ask

If you ask me nothing at all.

It bemuses me, slightly,

That though your flesh is bone

And your creamy essence

Is a simple bundle of wands and ferrules,

The complexity of your conflict

Can never contrast our own.

Yes, your face is a gullible grin

And your spine a column of solemn joints,

But, then again, such is the case with the rest of us.

Fused mouths and iron rachises

Are, unfortunately, what we’ve all become.

Yet, still…

What are you looking at?