Regression

.
I dream the caveman that dwells within
doth triumph over
my soft and genteel nature

dumb and dull
grunting and groaning my voice
stuffing slim pickings into a yawing mouth
over a pool of dirty droppings

with a dusty bed of gravel
to slumber
a lumbering, noisy sleep
belching, snoring
scratching, passing wind
dreaming of the hunt
for morsel and game
and the scent of a ripe woman
to soften the grueling hardship
only to reawaken
stiff and sore
to paw his way once more
into another day of eking

'tis only a dream, me thinks
and fervently hope
t'will not come 'round true