It’s actually quite fun
throwing mud,
if you can accept it
sticks sometimes
to your own slow fingers,
staining them.

But gather it all up
in handfuls,
dirt, wet for preference,
delightful
as missiles targeted
away there:

At the dark heart hated
by us all
and by all means repeat
the treatment,
until the target becomes
the victim.

There. Hopefully you feel
better now.