This Pretty Flesh Is An Excrement (explicit)

Posted: April 7, 2013 in Poetry
Tags: ,

I used to think really hard about who was fucking the world.

A dark romantic web of political intrigue.

But as I often do,
I think too much.

All it is-is people who have shit,
shitting on everyone that doesn’t have shit.
And we love shit.
Eat, piss, and shit.
We toil our whole lives away to become like those with shit.
Only to discover we ain’t shit.
We feel like shit.
We don’t mean shit.

We don’t give a shit.                                                                                                                             We imagine shit;
just to deal with this shit.

But the shit is hitting the fan.
I wouldn’t shit you.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s