For The Love of Mud
To the horrible men of my first 40 days of 2013.
Why the mud?
Why not the daisies??
This boundless dud
Descending me back to the normalities.
In the receptivity of it all
I was bound to the insignificancy.
I was left to the hanging on the wall
Left to the conspiracy.
No truth to the matter
Nothing helped me along the way.
It wasn’t clear until all the chatter
Moseyed away.
The mud only leads you to the daisies.
Some day.
The first 40 days of 2013, men didn't do me well.
