after Holly's appetongue-ising
regurgitation
of non-festive recommendations
and Pakeha revelations,
wandered I
to the street chant.
doled out a cup of soup, I caught
the last of
something important, I thought...
and having felt, with soup in hand,
the hate slurred at those who hate,
the blue uniforms guarding the blue hearts
in their blue party
inside the Rendezvous
thought I: God,
All Humans are awful.
We are all awful.
Why are we all awful?
This is like capital punishment,
this will
not
fix it.
I felt disappointed. The protest ended.
The ball-gowned
me-but-not-mes, (young and sharing
(but not sharing) three syllables of names)
jeered at my ugly boots
which are a joke, anyway
acted tactfully (thought they) with a salting of spite
and entered their night of spinal ignorance, backs so straight practically
asking for a stabbing
Supposedly important.
Thought I: what's important are
words spoken in Basements
things said, and heard
not mimicked - in crowds - without ears - no ears on either
the crowds nor the recipients
the recipients without ears because of the crowd's head having holes
I'd rather have my ears chewed, than be ugly
as I'd rather be ugly than
at the ball with both slippers
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