Museum

My sister is an art curator
And one of the first things she taught me,
is that
We are all art galleries

You see,
Every person is a collection of experience and memories
Positioned in a way that we wish to be perceived
And those who like what they see will linger in our presence
Those who truly appreciate our unique and wistful essence

And so we structure ourselves in this way
And we are all museum curators
Interior designers of our very own conjectures
There is no understanding without proper presentation
And that’s the point of all of it
To want love and feel acceptance

And what you realise is that there is no single identity
No independent factor contributing to reality
We are all composed of fragments that originate from another
Ever-changing elements that react to those of others

The way we are is altered by the way the world is turning
And the exhibit always shifts according to what we are learning
The artist inside strives and strives to transcend new creations
Novel pieces of soul occurring with each
profound
elation.

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Dairy’s the Devil

607271-cow

Dairy,
The white curdling anger I feel
When I drink some milk

Dairy,
The sloppy goo of yogurt stains
On my trousers
Ruins my clothes.

Dairy,
Extracted from female cows
Not mine to claim
But in the devil’s name?

Dear Diary,
I had some cheese today
My sins consume my Camembert
But greedily.
Mmm. Cheese.

I want to feel the hurt they feel
Mooing in wretched caged green fields
I fail to realise it’s in my hands
Cadbury?
An industry of pain.

So removed from reality
This beverage, liquid purity
Fed lies by nutritious entities
Forgotten lies the calf and steed

Heifers weep oh so silently
While I sit here, drinking some tea
Fermenting life energy
Equips my sandwich,
Vitality.

There’s guilt in a Celebration box
Each sweet enthralled with mischief
I’m tempted just by gluttony
But then I remember thusly:

Stolen right from the udder’s tip
Compelled by awful corporate whips
Screaming cattle, losing battles
I no longer can commit

Childhood foods
They imminent evil
But custard creams?
So soft and sweet,
Made with malice?
I want to eat.

While debating on some civil rights
Eating pizza‘s now my single plight
The choice is bad
Dairy’s the devil
But sinfully delicious.