Am an arrogant chauvinist
With an inflated self opinion and
A humble, pinkish skin.
Where did I go wrong?
Is a lame work horse
That fails to move the load
Or a black pustule that oozes
A festered corruption.
Where did they go wrong?
Is the lurid crust of psoriasis,
Splitting and bleeding ignorance,
Held to the Body only by the fibrous
Tension of amino acids like "Church" and "Cult".
Where did we go wrong?
Is the gruesome, twisted legs of polio,
In place to hold the Body up,
Now merely limiting its movement
With surges of debilitating shock and parochial insights.
Where did God go wrong?
Look to the moon for comfort,
To evaporate the agony of realization
With her pale glow, and take deep breaths
In hope of catching her scent in the breeze.
She has never steered me wrong.