poems gigs misc. why
                don't you EMdC home
Poems Written By My Hormones
With No Assistance From My Brain.
(Number Two In An Ongoing Series.)

What the fuck?
I don't give a shit!

These words keep erupting
all day
in grunts and
indignant splutters
from some voice inside.

In response to ...
in particular.

Maybe a tweak from some stupid fuckwit
in my subconscious.
Maybe a half-recalled embarrassing experience.
Maybe spiney niggles from trifling chores
or mountainous responsibilities.
Maybe warning signs from a neglected,
less-than-totally-fit body.
Or unhealthy soul?


What the fuck?
I don't give a shit
what the fuck it is
I don't give a fucking shit about!

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