My Sweet Poem by Zyw Zywa

I can see it
in the double-pane

people wear themselves
on their back

their shirts are tighter
than their skin

turkey guys raise their fan
more proudly than Mr. Peacock

.....with bound hands
.....they parade in the smell

.....of their dry-windy gut bacteria
.....and they let homeless people live

.....on the wet coins
.....from the old fountain of love

and I see myself
joining in to keep what I have

my dear self on my back
because I love my sweet

deceit