Insensitive Cochons give me no air
As they root and feed root and feed
I must be the shit splattered everywhere
as they grunt and sniff, grunt and sniff
I forgot my really good line (again)
As I get pushed aside
and into the wall
bloodying my nose
that sprays all over them
As they root and feed, grunt and sniff
I sink to the ground
On dirty straw and exhale
Too tired to get up
Kicking an exclusion zone
I wrap my arms around my knees
as the shit soaks into my pants
and believe this is really happening.
It’s all part of Gods plan for me.
©2017 Andrew Watkins
Material things get the better of us 