You can't make this
stuff up.
Am I the only freak
in the waiting room?
walled in by wailers and whiners
salty snot rivers,
getting smothered by a soaked wet hot
blanket of shame.
When I hear a stranger bemoan a tragedy....
bubbling with a loss so deep
they are willing to show their entire shame,
I get to have all
the feels, the pinata
of loss
the licorice jelly beans and
coffee chews of
the crap sadness
I can't be the solitary one
that shrinks from
the towering shit show
of meat emotion
When I say that
I am sorry
for your loss,
what I really mean to say is..
get the fuck away from
me and suck it up
When you, a virtual stranger, grab
me and wipe your nose on my
shirt, I give you an awkward squeeze
and say something about the almighty
just barely keeping it on the chain
to shove my two sword fingers
into the spot where your lower jaw rests
about an inch
below your ear lobe
and p-u-s-h
while you gasp, and maybe pee your
pants a little, I say..
Goddammit, man
stop giving up
your gaping asshole for the world to fuck
because, i say with a wise smile,
feelings are stupid
and should be avoided.
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