A Few Quarks

Hidden beneath the skin is a sucking chest wound A sonic boom sized black hole Ravenously devouring everything that comes close- Chairs, tables, animals, and egos Nothing lasts- it all disappears Pellmell into the vacuum Visitors with smooth china faces murmur and smile blandly Gesticulating with the randomness of modern life Before they tumble head over heels Never suspecting they were that close From oblivion, and a hell of emptiness Maybe that's why casual human relations Are distasteful and boring Like having a tea party on the brink Of a seething volcano's forthcoming fury Worrying about two lumps of sugar or three And if the wind will get up too much For the embroidered table cloth to hang just so: If you would only peer over the edge You'd see the grinning carcasses exposed to the elements And broken furniture stripped of respectfulness The veneer of civilization is only a few quarks thick.