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Feb 2020
Yelling at cows
To communicate
Don’t
It’s the nothing to eat
And the nothing
You won’t
It’s illiterate faith
In a written conviction
Submission
To sheepishness
Meek superstition
Conditions of living
Look closer to death
It’s traditions
Of giving
Largesse
Dispossessed
It’s a kid without shoes,
Without pants,
Without soap
It’s his future
Still stuck
In the past
Without hope
It’s a rope
Swaying from
The back-breaking
Day labor
When seasonal yields
Don’t appease
The slave trader
It’s nature sustained
In humane
Sorts of ways
Yet its plagues
Of malaise
No known substance
Allays
It’s ablaze
With the wasted,
Mismanaged,
Degraded
Potential surpluses
From scarcely
Translated
Inveterate cultural norms
Antiquated
To progress outpacing
Its status updated
It’s really just sad
In explicit
Indignity
Vapid morasses
Morose
In its imagery
Lacking in prose
Like its tax inefficiency’s
Masses of *******
Classless delinquency
Crassly harassing
All those it sees differently
Yes just
Synonymous with
A simplicity
Virulent in
Its immuno-deficiency
Michael Marchese
Written by
Michael Marchese  30/M/California
(30/M/California)   
80
 
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