Cannibal

Cannibal
By Tatiana Pahlen

Voracious, since the day of Birth,
grasping mother's rippling jug,
the infant gains through monstrous shouts
a restless, curly pint-size pug.
His mouth curves with the sweetest smile,
baiting a clan for precious shots.
Variations of printed piles
capture all his paunchy parts.
A clergyman baptizes him forthwith
kith venerate this sacred day.
No one notices the toddler's teeth
That grow much longer than critter fangs.
One night the crescent climbs the sky
and briskly turns into a full moon;
The bark of dogs mature to a cry
amidst overflowing scarlet pool.
The feast is over; the wee beast sleeps,
All limbs of the household are gone.
Why was there no sign in those chubby lips
that gave life to a cannibal?