Allow for Perfection

When the credits roll and the music makes
The time start again.
Wait for the gag reel.
Wait for the final joke.
Never hurry to the next thing.
Seeming so important.
Not so at all.
You’ll miss the real show
The lights coming up
The contrived illusions giving way to
The true magic
There are saber-like shapes twirling
Cutting long slashes in the night.
Cutting the cool of the shadow into
Manageable bites.
Far off in the wet dark deep,
Some awesome slick sliding natural
Eating Machine pauses
All of it mouth and mouth support
It wonders if that is all it could be
Then realizes that there is nothing else
If would every need or want
Besides all the arts and gifts
That is already is.