Poem Hunter
(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)


Poem By Jeffrey Yang

Forgivable obscenities.
And outspoken exploits,
Embellished as if...
To reminisce them.
In locker rooms with the boys.
Bragging about what they grabbed.
Although given to easily get and have.

Getting ridiculously unreasonable,
And an affront that has begun...
To offend the existence,
Of any remnants of common sense that remains.
Beginning to outrage those once engaged,
In the sharing of solicited gossip.
While sipping on freshly poured tea.
Brewed in their favorite tea pots.

"Why have you broken,
Those gold rimmed cups to you I gifted? "

-It's the news.
And heightened absurdities.
Leaving my kept pretentiousness,
Struggling with frustration.
Tossed here and there.
Making unbearable my anguish.-

"This I believe.
Usually your dramatic reactions,
Are not that far out,
To have you lose control."

So goes those lives lived,
By suburbanites.
Fraught and frightened,
To witness their way of life...
Choked and blown to pieces.
By someone who dares and cares less,
Whose delusions are shredded.
Done to do it without it joked.

So appalled these disbelievers sit.
Glued to TV's.
As the realness of the B.S.
Becomes more difficult,
For them to accept and digest.
"Oh! ", they express in disbelief and woe.
Knowing there is no place left,
For their kept pretensions to go.
Since witnessing them,
Being flushed down the toilet.
Done to prove,
All waste to rid...
Eventually flows through the gutter.
From the top to the bottom.
Where all the garbage fed ends up to expose.

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