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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

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


I had the disquieting feeling, as I read, that it was not a dream, but rather the reality of one stuck in the rut of living, who dreams it because he cannot face the truth.

Should "droping" be "dropping"?

Respectfully, Jim

"Laws and Rules don't kill freedom: narrow-minded intolerance does" - Race-9togo

a lot! " I dream that the caveman that dwelleth within doth triumph over my soft and genteel nature". My favorite line! I hate to nitpick, but gravel doesn't come in slabs, maybe you could use another word, like bed?
And dwelleth seems a little cumbersome, maybe just dwells? ~ Gee

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