"The Feasting" and "Groundhog's Day"

The Feasting

By: Kevin Meeks

Just off the space rail to Newtown, Mars,

dusk glints softly off the glaciers.

And the ears of the two martian babes

flick with interest.

They have traveled long from the mountains

to guide the explorer and me.

We leap over the metal wall into the cafeteria

where they have been cooking all day, alone.

Their lips twitch, hardly hiding their teeth

which are sharp.

They nod contemplative as fat friars. They like us outsiders.

There is no admiration like theirs.

Uneasy once more,

they begin consuming the tough meat of dinner on the table.

I would like to taste this meal also,

for they have left none for me

and my companion.

They are gray and blue,

their hair is short and fuzzy on the top,

and motion moves me to gaze towards the rear.

That is when they attacked and I was hit.

Suddenly I realize

That they were not feeding us, but

we are food.

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Groundhog's Day

By: Kevin Meeks

She looks around with concert eyes

into the sleeping riot.

Beneath the iridescent traffic vest

her world tunes into quiet.

Dusty vehicles shift into gear

turning out-dated rotors.

Thirteen months becomes a year

in this daylight spending time.

Phil rose up and then died,

Oh! what a groundhog's day it was.

The crowds doffed their hats and sighed,

beating their breasts as they vowed.

Across the pond the old blokes still met.

Fellow writer, the group of Kolbiters,

the Bird and Baby quartet.

They paid no attention to this day.

What of the Fahrenheit protocol?

Does she know what it means?

Spending another dime night in Omaha

as the geese pack their carpet-bags.

The overcoat of groundhog pelt

keeps her tiny frame warm.

As she shuffles into the tuna-melt

and turns off her brain with her charm.