It all ends up as shit;

that discolored horror created within all of us

ends up being the perfect metaphor

of the lives we are born in and die from

for example

if the instant assumption

as the reader

is something fowl or distasteful

perhaps your focus

avoids looking at something vile

for the purpose of finding good

 

if you are still with this narcissistic attempt at poetry

you understand that we ourselves are created

from the ingestion

of two people;

their foods injected into precious orifices

to begin the creation

 

and through the feeding of this delicate incubation

the hand of biological mysteries

creates,

sometimes painfully

sometimes easy

sometimes too soon

sometimes needing outside help

with the constant press of time,

until this curious matter

escapes from the host body

 

we all do the same thing

admire both the magnificence and the vulgarity of it

both shit and life

as we raise the baby, flush the toilet

and send it on its way

 

throughout our lives

we bury away thousands of pounds

of this compacted excrement

far exceeding the weight of the actual body

when that time comes as well

 

there is beauty in a positive metaphoric atrocity

understanding

the body and all it has poured out of it;

nourishment, both, to keep mother nature fertile

for life to continue

 

we were made to live

we were made to die

we were made to feed

 

it all ends up as shit

a necessary element of life

in any respect

 

 

 

af

 

 

 

 

(written on computer)