Hell I've seen it,
lived it, and those
there unaware
that that is it,
that maybe there
was some other place,
less crowded, less
oversubscribed.
The noise of the place,
the attitude of those there,
the total lack of concern
or care, no understanding
of love or the essence of love,
only lust, lust of body,
of wealth, of land, of all.
Hell I’ve seen it,
been there, known them there,
pushing stuff into the orifices
to escape from the place,
unaware they are,
on the treadmill
of the ever turning wheel,
always wanting
to feel feel feel.
The vanity of vanities,
how they look,
how they appear,
the tone of the body,
the length of nails or lashes,
the shape of the bodies,
the lustful appeal,
and the thump thump
of the beat, the dancing
of always moving feet,
and the gaze of long
everlasting despair
and the blankness
in their lostness
of their stare,
unaware they are there.