The Deplorable Thing

The deplorable thing about you, my friend,

is not your arrogant hubris;

it's certainly not your haughty conceit,

or that you are pompously priggish;

it has nothing to do with your ego or gall,

or the fact that you're awfully sententious;

it's just that you think that you're better than me,

which I deem ironic, pretentious.

the cassowary of puerto rico

cornered,
captured,
killed,
the eccentric cassowary,
by vicious dogs,
was
dismembered,
decapitated,
devoured.

distantly,
approvingly,
conveniently
the man observed:
dogs hunt;

birds
fly,
hide,
or die.

this cassowary
got what he deserved,
encouraged,
desired.
this cassowary
flaunted his oddity,
his eccentricity,
his beauty
and died.

inspired by a bird (fourth photo from the left) and a boy

Nerd Tape, misuse of

Made in Bangladesh

a Child once asked his parents for a shirt
          his parents said, "For sure."
          and chained him to a sewing machine.
the shirt I wear has a tag in it,
          I paid fourteen ninety-five for it.
          it reads "Made in Bangladesh."
fourteen ninety-five is the most I would pay for it,
          and the company is not willing to make any less profit,
          which has nothing to do with that Child-slave, made in Bangladesh.

From Dust

His dignity they from him stripped
and tied him to a tree.
Left beaten, battered, pistol whipped,
my God! How can it be?

How can I love the ones that hate
the brother of a friend?
It was his life that they did take;
my heart they daily rend.

Who gives to men the right to thieve
the life from one of us?
Is it not God who has to grieve
when one returns to dust?