Some People are Poison

Some people are poison
they’ll wrap around you like vines
and wring your neck if you let them
and they probably don’t even realize
what they’re doing.

Some people are poison
and some of them are in disguise
wearing china-doll faces and g-strings
snorting like a child and fucking like an animal
and inside very very cold.

Some people are poison
and thrive off their own excretions
shoveling dirt and grit and coal into the furnace
of a train car that isn’t even moving
and holds no-one’s interest.

Some people are poison
and dirty-haired and the colour of rats
will do anything for you while you’re in their line of sight
will lie, cheat, steal, rape and giggle their way to the top
and are worthless.

Some people are poison
and I want the antidote if it exists
a solution other than an ectomy
a slap or a wake-up call
I want to help.

Interpretations of a Freak Occurrence

Today I went to the bathroom to relieve myself. With a sigh I took off my apron while checking my facebook on my iPhone. Putting the phone away, I stepped up to the urinal and reached down to unzip my fly, only to discover that it was already undone. Then I reached inside to undo the button of my boxer shorts and let the little guy out, but it was already unbuttoned, my wang already free.

As I peed I wondered. Was this a stroke of luck? Myself already pre-prepared to pee? Or was it a narrow escape from embarrassment, humiliation and the frightening of small children?

(Not to mention public indecency!)

Thank God for aprons.