NO matter what I do
Or who I shoo
Away from the poo
They always come back
Can’t be the smell
Must be the personality
Some people are just pieces of shit.
And others are attracted to it.
Sweep it up.
Put it in a bag.
Dispose of it.
It’s the law you know.
Or citations will be handed out
Not hardly at random
I offer this defense
One of offense.
A strong middle finger.
Or two (just to prove I can still strum a bow)
Arm thrust forward, grasped at the fore.
Fuck you
And most that you stand for.
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