Note: A few friends were surprised by the happy short story Vanilla Malted. They couldn’t believe that I would write something so upbeat. Like I noted, that was written before I realized the extent of my misanthropy. This poem, which has always been one of my favorites, was written in 1993. As you can tell, the bitterness, indifference and gradual realization of life’s general pointlessness had begun to set in.



A smiling flower sways
as the wind blows gently.

Soft petals wave
at the neighboring weeds.

It’s beauty glows
amid the surrounding dirt.

I stomp on it
to make it fit in.

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