There Is No Such Thing As A Soul

There is a bright light deep inside this garbage can

where I can see the maggot thoughts

and smell the rotted flesh of bad memories

there is a gelatinous mass of shallow judgement

and a scummy layer of know it all.

I pick up a can of Raid

and spray for days

the poison sinks into my membranes

the maggots writhe, scream and burst forth as flies

which buzz so loudly that the whole can vibrates

and is knocked over in a clangy crash as

my voices spread out into the humid air

to convey the gospel of bullshit and bad attitude.

Well, I need to do that sometimes…

if I don’t, then the garbage can turns to gold

the rubbish becomes velvet

the scum turns to caviar

and the maggots to belief.

I thought

they don’t make these out of aluminum anymore

and I picked up the garden hose and the scrub brush.

Another mess to clean up, another day gone by.

 

 

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