The World According to Jelly Babies

We are not set for global domination. 

You know we are expendable, yet love 

our mute simplicity. All complication 

dissolves between your teeth. We never move 

except when we are elevated to 

Mt. Rushmore lips. Terror should consume us 

though resignation saves the day. You chew 

whole families. Invariably you doom us 

on first acquaintance. What chance to establish 

relationships? Your hunger seals our fate. 

We have no life but yours, and can accomplish 

nothing on our own. It’s far too late 

the moment we are formed. And so we sigh, 

naked and colourful and rather shy. 

uncollected, © Paul Groves 2023, used by permission of the author

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