Poetry by Mathias Nelson

Drop The Eggs

The humans are a bunch of chickens

with their heads cut off

still running around the yard

looking for something to snip

dirt to move

rocks to clean

back and forth

every season

move the snow

fertilize the lawn

paint the house a different color and

dig your finger in your nose

roll it around

flick

stick it back in

remove the sweat wedgy

there’s work to do

come away with a finger full of bullshit

sniff it

love it

it’s what you do

in order to be a “man”

you gotta’ be pussy whipped

you gotta’ get married and yelled at

you gotta’ work like a slave

and even if you do get rich the government

is still going to fuck you in the ass

and shove more bullshit up there,

no escape

sweat it out—

sweat it out till you’re a sack of bones

and ready to be eatin’ by the earth’s flowers . . .

these chickens run without heads

circles and circles and circles

until they finally go limp

drained of all the blood

and the last thing heard is

the bullshit of a carcass spewing

from a dead ass

followed by

the thud.

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