We all
rot
ballooning into
dust husks
flesh slip-dripping
from bone
after a life
marked by
nails torn
clawing to some
false ideal we
cannot agree on.
We all
came
drenched in the
slime of our
mothers’ bodies and
sweat-flicked
fornication
to struggle,
mottled and
squalling,
to gorge our
animal natures.
Yes,
a few roads
may diverge
in this yellow-tinged
wood, but
let’s not pretend
they don’t all lead
in the same
direction.