what you think

Look at me I say. Stare at me with your eyes wide open. Peer, gawk, gaze till your eyes burn and your heart begs you to stop. Am I that different from you that your throat must fill with that disgust, that bile rising to be discharged? People say I should give my mask to others; that I should let someone else ride in my tube; that I should let them kick with my paddles. They say it is appropriate and right for I have been sitting and kicking long enough. I don't care though. Why should I have to give up my inflatable balloon? Why can't they get their own latex, shape it, inflate it, and then float it. They say it is proper; but I say, can a pig do this.

If you cannot tell, I drag my hand through soiled waters touching refuse discarded by bowels long ago. Does it bother you? I let you smell it if you like.