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