Packaged to Sell

Shaving disguises the ape, enough so
its natural concealment deceives itself.

Blind to its apeishness, it makes
lofty proclamations concerning its greatness
as a vastly superior creature, above all
others of its general kind.

The upheld razor is dominion, a calling
power through abraded skin, allowance
is made, at any cost, for homo pongo auto-amorous
to grope out pleasure from the diminishing world.

In love with its conceit
it connives complex excuses
for where its failings are most obvious.

Tremendous effort, volumes of books,
many hundreds of thousands of hours
of pontification, expounding upon virtues
deep within it knows it does not have.

In a cape and collar, the ape disguised
makes elaborate lies –
a splendid foundation of lassitude, duplicity
and pretend, which is, in the end really
all it has… make believe
well, that and an opposable thumb
used to wield the blade
whether for oppression or obfuscation, but
eventually the truth bears out
a solemn fact
a turd wrapped in foil, does not
a candy bar make.


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