Sick And Mired

Men have become the tools of their tools. - Thoreau

i'm so lonely

so sick and tired

of this bedridden city

this societal dumping ground

this scratched, hooch mecca

this pimped-out, shot-up den of sin

this masked ménage

i must have done something very bad to be deposited here

without a passbook for withdrawals

all i have is my daily constitutional to the park down by the water

my inlet of faith

fleeing cement chaos

in search of unprocessed sanity

side-stepping empty beer cans

spent nip bottles

discarded needles

losing lottery tickets

condom wrappers

puddles of piss and piles of excrement

avoiding the gaggle of hyenas that rule

trying not to look them in the eye

as they giggle at me with their street japes when i pass by

weirdos, french-fried finnaglers, freakazoids and politically correct but corrupt, contemptible fairies

there's nothing here

not even a minutia of hope

i must manufacture my own

the stores here don't sell it

they peddle it

general electric used to have a significant presence here

but it's only a shadow now of what it once was

a case of getting too big for your britches

not knowing how to correctly sew cross-stitches

too many prostituting b*****s

with their legs wide open

and locks on their doors

i'm almost there now

ahhh

i finally made it

in once piece

with all my teeth

the park

where i can finally breathe

where i can try once again to believe

searching for god

uninspired

ugh

sigh

help me please

i'm so lonely

so sick and tired

mired

naked in my armored attire

i want to drop an atomic f-bomb on this conurbation

this syphilis metropolis

home of the undesired

on what's transpired

Author's Note

"If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer. But if he spends his days as a speculator, shearing off those woods and making the earth bald before her time, he is deemed an industrious and enterprising citizen." - Thoreau

Reviews

[barleygirl]

I love this poem & also your Thoreau quote in author's note. It's amazing how different my perspectives have become after living alone in the wilderness for 10 years. You capture a ton of vivid detail, all expressed with snappy derision, to paint what I don't miss at all about being "out there" in the "real world". And just think, not being immersed in "all this" (as depicted in your poem) is what tons of people are whining about, being on covid lockdowns all over the world. Man, I love my life (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie