The Purge

 
"ahhh
to disembowel you...slowly pull out your entrails  
then stuff them back down your throat
so you too can at last know what recycled bullshit tastes like"
 
&#%@
 
as the sun ushered in the darkness
something churned inside of  
my gut the other morning
i woke to a peculiar kind of disgust
nausea ran up my solar plexus
caused me to vomit up the kind of poem
i really had no desire to write
 
still
 
even after the spillage i feel no better
different..but no better
 
there's a lingering aftertaste
rancid words filter at the roof of my mouth
with the urgent need to exhale remnants of the decayed
dying for a face to face encounter with those
who would dare neglect their daughters
leave them empty...vacant vessels
at the mercy of a filthy afterbirth of a man
a delusional oily spirited piece of shit
 
who soiled wombs with his seediness
warped the naivete of fertile minds
tethered them to his maddened fantasies..
raped them publicly before our eyes
through an ideology he himself could never live up to
put them on display as some sort of
bizarre circus act
 
reflections of fuckery is what i called it
 
who were these girls' fathers i asked myself
the absentee protectors and providers
who left them barren..devoid of any sense of self worth
ripe for a vulture's plucking
ripe for a sinister mind fucking
 
i'm fuckin disgusted
the bile of these words must be expunged
stricken from the soul
there should be no reason for them  
to ever have come into existence in the first place
 
but my pragmatist knows better
and my poet concurs
as i spew these words
knowing another vomit session
is lurking somewhere in the future