De Void

Why must I make a person
to be seen as a whole?

Do my years lack
some divine meaning
because the gears
of the Factory still churn
and all I’ve got to show for it
are aunt flo’s diapers?
Will my high balls be boarded
from housing shriveled-
up punkin seeds?
Are my milkless mounds
stretchless wastes of fat sacs
undeserving of a sucker?

Maybe I’ve missed my Chance.

“Don’t say that” they say.
I don’t answer to the flock.
While they catch
the worms,
I conceive in my empty
nest of
Words.

Acceptance is
the best medicine,
or so I say.