bedraggled beetle-headed Beelzebub befuddles,
bullies, beguiles, backward blustery birdbrain blockheaded
bigots. Boisterously building up these bold-faced blowhards,
bamboozling them into bee-brained befuddlements.
No more can I live on the meat
Of living things (nor on corpses).
Their milk, too, is for their newborns
And their eggs are their future kids.
I cannot feed on plants either.
They themselves should live for a while
And their seeds are future plants, too.
I just should live on minerals.
Good people (not your vicious ones)!
I don't ever need your preaching;
I'm — sorry — blockheaded than you.
I simply don't know chemistry.
I wasted all my life on math
And humanities. Just give me
A list of minerals like salt
And water to help me survive.
2.17.2024
No comments, please!
Cubism is my favorite art.
I love making silly blockheaded people, pretending
Ignorance as to why I would have drawn certain
Wonderful people in this manner.
I grin diabolically as I cartoon them with cubed heads,
And uppity squared off eyes, looking shifty.
Blocked noses high in the air, looking square-pigged snooty.
My grin gets bigger and bigger as I draw…
I think I started to do this in third grade, as a defense
Mechanism when Ms. Smells – not her real name, but her real attitude
Was too superior to help us in any way, angry if we did not
Understand the concepts she galloped through at a sixth grade level.
It is just something that came to me, I said innocently,
Presenting her with her caricature with a flourish,
Pretending this was a wonderful compliment.
She seemed pleased, not realizing the extent of the insult.
So at the ripe age of eight, I accidentally discovered
I can get in my licks, even against haughty grownups, in the name of art,
By seventh grade I did not always remember to do it with a smile,
So it did not work nearly as well.
But this in no way wiped out my love of cubism.
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