Just one bite

It isn’t hidden in bold type
Curious fonts or muted prints
Suggestive eyes
Asking you to examine your soul.

Heigh-ho!  Doc cycles to work
Through the jungle and drama
Of DIY and organic palaces
A sugarless plot to hide upon time.

And where’s the magician?
The old romantic? The satirist?
The poet-singer still entreating?
I’m wishing.

I don’t know how to be seduced
or make the truth bite.
It just gently gnaws.

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