The ills

By Paul Andrew Bourne, MSc (pending); BSc. (Hons) Economics

It opened it wings
flexed its muscles
roared like a lion in travail
then raised it ugly head
like
like an avalanche from a flood's ruin
ranting a knight's vengeance
then it stood
stood tall like a man's ego
unpolluted by environmental construct
for it was coming
coming
with a volcanic force
from far and deep.

It requested not the being's consent
but attacked like a comet from on high
a change because of maturation
a biological ?'mischemistry'
a continuation, which was
aided by ignorance
no mad bull was that fierce, and
no obscenity was ever so displeased
for it lived in a ruin
of the body's excreta.

Angry voices yelled for freedom
pleasant faces broke their civility
the ghost of a smile fades instantaneously
for hospitable beings become rebellious children
broad shoulders lowered their stance
children giggled in amusement
the very godly was filled
with much forbearance
the high and might
begged for discharge
for everyone had smelled the out-pour

The close were held its hostage
decency was marred by anger
no one commiserated with the
deficiency within the system
it made effluence's stench
more bearable, gentle, tactful
to other prior mood destroyer
for this viper, old breath stopper
exploded like pent oxygen
as kind as a woman's wrath.

Stumbling over hidden parts
creating the mind's worst enemy;
a scorpion's tool
that had stunned every scientist
outwitted all herbalists
uprooted the patient
stung the very infant
Oh!
Oh…the odour…the odour beneath the nostrils.