The Usual — The Expected

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I have been sacrificed on your makeshift
Alter of Indifference and Unaware
Offered my yet beating heart to the
Great Deity of Important Personal Interests
That you say feed your soul because
You need to have something important
To make it all worthwhile.
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Accepted, my heart’s been chopped up
For nothing, or maybe plastic and
Styrofoam, food substitutes, and diesel fuel.
I am becoming nothing, worth nothing, not much left,
Just a bunch of rotting nothing.
Nothing else is so unsightly as the usual,
The expected trivia of an old woman’s pain.
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Our Mother Earth, we women do understand. We have all been
accepted on the same alter.
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Bear … 03.24.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint
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