Day 169 of the 365 day poem challenge.
Word of the day truculent meaning: "defiantly aggressive."
Fall from grace
His manner was truculent
He sat and brooded
And he brooded about brooding
Libido vacant
Life upturned
Gumption eradicated
His family was tossed out
His notion of self fell into decay
It made sense to beat passersby
It made sense to lash out with non-sense and swear words
It felt nice
Like the feather tickle at the top of the spine
That delicate balance of too little and too abundant sensation
He was betrayed and spat upon
He was condemned
He was judged
His life adjudicated
Farewell to control
His head hangs
Unhinged
He rocks forth into danger
Bring it on the cry of his wildening jowls
Because animals are spat on
Because savages have no humanity
Because rats live and lie in their own waste
Kiss the curb
He kisses it cold and covered in mildew
What comes up must slide down into this refuse
The light above feels like a long lost fairy story now
It's hard to be sophisticated
When you have no pants to shit in
It's hard to articulate poverty
When you're soaked by it
The man is a mess of dirt and beads of stink
He is barely a man anymore
He flashes his teeth
A passerby remarks with some contempt the stool that smeared the walkway apparently has eyes and ears
But does it have a heart or soul
How can an animal
They're condemned to hell aren't they?
Tumble down the rabbit warren
There is no grace or sex to be found here
There is nothing
He feels himself melt away into the pavement
His muscles relax and stupidity
Infects his brain as the sunlight causes sunspots and the slow decay of the world
The whole melting world
The melting pot of this
Mismanaged affair
This life
Or what is left of it
Sometimes within the eyes the pupils flutter
and it remembers
A time long ago
It remembers a time where the soles of his feet were caked to the base of his feet
A time long ago.
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