Phenotypic Rage Poem by John Weber

From my stark cave I breathe the tang of
blood and sweat; your breathing slows in
        alarm palpable and sticky as you
slink away with trepidation. In your staccato
        crawl, rocks tumble
                down from your slope,
                betraying your endurance.

Bats flap elastic membranes as they dart
out from discrete perches within piles of quivering
        motion, while along the glazed ground,
sightless minions of fur scuttle about on
        twiggy claws-
                skittering scratches
                massage the walls.

My position intractable, I hunker down with
resilience, disgusted by your ignorant
        intrusion and childish ranting; your
banality reminds of tribal hoarding despite
        perilous warnings
                flashed in my moist,
                arrogant eyes.

In mercy, I lash out with purpose to expel your
tormenting indignity and scoffing disbelief as
        screams charge from my pursed lips to
quake the Earth with my justified fury and
        knowing venom to
                ensure only the
                fittest survives.