People are Shitty

 People are shitty; I smell it in the air,

A foulness enclustered

In ostensible kindness care and Exceptionalism rare. Oh, yeah,

Hamburgers in a pair.

One should never dare

Pierce the meat (medium rare) –

As seen on TV, not with real eyes to see –

And call the lifeless “rot” that no one else seems to spot

‘Neathe the garnishes and fries.

Poor enlightened spies,

Gasping – the putrid smell,

Besieged:

Beasts of hell, pretty and shitty

Pretty,

All escaping but we,

The Me, the Thee,

The raping of our Us, of our We …

Pretty.

See? Pretty. Just like on TV.

Pretty fucking shitty.

Smell the pretty shitty shell.

I can hear what you won’t tell and

I can see what you won’t smell.

I love you and I hate you.

I don’t know you and you are like me.

It’s all too complicated. It’s all too foul.

It’s gone too far. It’s all gone so terribly, so shittily far.

I think that I must forget about you as no longer mine–

You shelled human remains of a marvelous ancestral line.

To you, O suffering spies:

I wish you well,

Both armed and incapacitated by your piercing seeing eyes.

I love you dearly,

My lips quiver to say.

(The tears come enfilade every day).

We are shitty too in our way.

Shit-stained, scared shit, feeling shitty all the time and even full of shit when we have to be, just to get through another shitty day.

I wish you well. I wish us well.

Finding our way out of this pretty, shitty hell.

By MC April, 2016