to have no other life than gossiping
about others
or adore the preening of non-entities
to fill a void while you clamor
for their blood the minute
they resemble you in a pathetic fall
oh I cannot count how many of you
can be stuffed into a tiny car
joy buzzers and squirt flowers
fall off you as you pull yourself
out of the not-so-smart-car
at center ring (nowhere else suitable
for your likes...or the hucksters
who accommodate and build you up
until they're done with you)
I'd be ashamed to eat cotton candy in front of you
it might remind you of your own shortcomings
or the schoolyard you endured in agony
as the ringmaster blew a tardy whistle
and everyone else limped back to class
with you in some bushes pants down around your ass like a clown...
Contenbt (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.
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