Honor
In a small room smells
Like vomit justice
Without context
has the stench
Of self
Righteousness
Cowards need
Company and lots
Of words to cover
Their lies, ever
see the eyes
Of people at a
Lynching how
Intentionally
Dull they are
always
The most twisted
And meanest
spirited
Among them found
Someone who made
Them feel small found
the fault real or
imagined egged
Them all
On started a war
By the most ancient
Of excuses saying
They’d been attacked
Stuffed
All the shame of their
Fabricated
Victimhood
Down the hanging
Man’s throat and invited
Him to defend
himself
smallness
makes my soul
hurt and I wander
outside look up at the
stars until their
distances make me
realize how small
I am how much I need
Those awful
people
private investigations
a log of private investigations into loss, absurdity, and death as a part of life, as seen from the big time and the big self of childhood, before we knew so much we stopped wondering, before the banality gang got to us and told us how to be chained to our daily selves. The investigations are conducted by Joe Potatoes because he has a lot of private eyes and they’re all on the ground.
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