A Ghazaling We Will Go

Clever titles sometimes drop me at such a place that progress cannot be made
I stand at the foot of the Yellow Brick and cannot hop the fist skip

As the day moped on we mingled body parts under slick sheets
We couldn't hear the rain but could feel it was there

Guilt eats at my stomach like nervousness's little brother
My sticky hand covered in bark and dirt after leaving the honeycomb empty

Telling someone they are not smart and need to be smarter doesn't have any positive effect
Come on, you're smarter than that

You shouldn't take pride in finishing something
That you took no pride in doing

The filthy Humanista