The rhetoric or unexposed truths
chimes deep in my sensing ears
My knotted, diseased gut holds tight
to plights of unknowns, neighbors,
and even the departed
The vagaries of insults
both real and fictitious
imprison my creation
Ecstasy occasionally threatens
to do a drive-by
but really it's just movie trailer expectations
manipulating my naive and tender gullibility
Hold cautious desires close,
low expectations closer,
and let fly unrealistic dreams
to pave way for the
"Oh what a joy your pets must be,
hold longingly to gratitude!"
The stench or urine and shit
and processed rotten fish is
embedded in my nostrils
My carnivorous expectations
never sated, never dwindling,
up-ending carts in my mind's temple
We are all of us
a moment away from
jails, institutions,
and death
Perhaps the realization
can serve as protection
in the waning hours of hope
between 3 and 4 a.m.
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