I see things that could make you cry.

by Guilhem Vellut on flikr http://www.flickr.com/photos/o_0/

by Guilhem Vellut on flikr
http://www.flickr.com/photos/o_0/

Artsy people stand around, usually when in a group, and try to impress each other with their knowledge of history. They regurgitate ‘facts’ they’ve ‘learned’ about ancient times, and argue over who is right about trivial mysteries.

I’ve seen teenagers use me as a pedestal for fucking, for getting high, for drunkingly having a conversation.

I’ve had a homeless man shit in my hands. The rain had to wash it away, because no one got close enough to the smell to help clean it off. Do you know how long it takes shit to be washed away by the rain? The disturbed echo of his laughter still angers me.

I saw a fight, with a group of strangers just standing around watching. Some of the onlookers started cheering – FIGHTFIGHTFIGHT! The obviously smaller young man died in front of them all with such dignity. No one know the bigger one had a knife, fools. The whole group scattered before police were called, everyone pulling out their phone as they left. The killer stayed, and claimed self defense. They found a gun on the smaller mans hand, that wasn’t there during the fight.

The world is made of cowards, thieves, and murders. I’m the one with bird poop for tears.

About Kary

I write many things, prose, poems, prose, flash fiction, and novels. I've always loved the free form poem, and practice it most often. Feedback welcome. View all posts by Kary

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