Rancid Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Toxic.
The smell.
Of fresh exposure.
Rancid.
Much more in the atmosphere,
Than that which has been tolerated...
Disclosed in the air before.
I tell you,
This one tops all other thrillers.
This one promises,
To have butts clenched to seats.
A popcorn chewer.
An eye popper.
Draw dropper.
And minds blown to the outer reaches,
Of the Universe and light years beyond.

"How do you know this?
How can you tell? "

Well...
I am a lover of animals.
Most people are.
But in this high gloss engrossing drama,
Not one pet has been seen.
Anywhere.
Either walked on a leash or cuddled.
Have you heard a bird chirping?
Or a smiling face passing by?
Where are the sounds of giggling children?
Everything seems focused,
On the corruption shown.
From the sleaze of gutters.
To gated mansions.
Visited by those well known.
All clinging onto the arms of porno stars.
This...
Will be a toenail biter.
This...
Will have more than jaws dropping.
Uh...
What are you doing?

"Taking off my shoes and socks.
That pet comment you made,
Has for me begun to make sense."