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By John I. Blair

Strange fruits this tree bears,
Dangling, quivering,
Swaying in the breeze.

Fruits such as these,
Fabricated from foliage,
Feed no one but the maker,

Camouflage of high order,
Instinctively applied
One piece at a time.

Only if you squeeze
Will the faker emerge,
Legs waving, jaws chomping.

Some humans have
A similar technique
Of being hangers-on,

Disguising their worm selves
By imitating, assimilating;
But slowly destroying.

For them, too, maybe a squeeze
Would reveal true nature,
Fit subjects for eliminating.

(c)2004 John I. Blair

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