Bleak Posy

I hate the bloody
human race
I hate its stupid
vacant face
I hate the way
it pulls apart
the petals of
my broken heart

I hate the fact
it learned to fly
and spread its crap
across the sky
I hate the fact
it’s everywhere
and how it stops
to stand and stare

I hate it as
it never blooms
but sits and stews
in darkened rooms
I hate each cough
and spittle sneeze
I hate it like
a grim disease

I like the Mountains
of Instead
I like the prospect
up ahead
when it is gone
and I alone
grow among
its bleaching bones.