Why are you not banished from society,

you take up room and smell of disgust

and yet there you are still being rammed

down our throats as if your very being

is somehow natural, ordinary, as accepted

as broccoli, as native as rain, as seasonal

as a hot day in August

or six months of winter,

I detest you, you make me ill to even

think of being near you, I would happily

find room on a cargo ship,

put you in the middle of the ocean

and let you sink

into oblivion,

food for the fish,

but I could never be that cruel

to the sea creatures

who would probably spit you out

and through screwed up eyes curse us,

the land dwellers, forever.

I hate how you turn up uninvited,

how you pretend to be good,

how you claim to be on our side,

how you announce your presence…

oh how we suffer the sulphur,

Sprouts I don’t like you,

remember that,

for I know you don’t like me either.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016