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My History Among The People




For how long now have I only encountered difficult people?

The insincere make better company
than those who mock sincerity.

Everything humans do is ridiculous.
Everything humans refrain from doing, too.

I never came to terms with
the aspects of them I disliked.

Who is not discredited
in time?

The perverters of well-being
provide us with plenty of windmills
to tilt at,

a matryoshka of martyrs,
consumers, creators,
pursuing their work ethic to
the commercialization of the banality of evil.

There's no I in teem.

When others talked me out of myself,
my obscure history
replete with regrets
and other fruits of being,

I lost faith in man's arrangements
and look now only to the transient
joys of chaotic accident,

to getting away with what we can
before we are noticed.

It is true that I've rejected the simple ones.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.