A parched fig tree mocks a mouth—
a man is wedged into a mendicant,
he would stretch himself
into his family's & acquaintances' heart
but a miser is a padlocked
door—always repelling others
from its rooms.
famishment builds a cave
amidst his tapeworms
still, his mendicant bowl
returns void like a cadaver's nostrils
death reaps where
it doesn't sow, you know?
but what does death reap
from a barren tree?—
it wouldn't leave
any skin untouched.
at the man's funeral,
an assembly of mouth
munching edibles too costly
for the man to afford
sipping juice he yearned
for but never got.
tell the world,
this doing is insignificant.
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