"i clean, you clean
we all clean for hygiene!"
is what they seemed to chant
amidst the classroom's amped
parade of critics and comedians
-lukewarm liquid trickles through my hairline,
blue ink smeared on the right side
of my left hand,
but i use my sticky palm's sweat glands
as a cleansing technique.
the clown's circus captures
my nervous status,
internal daggers release the stench,
absorbing attention from my group
as they complain about the smell and refuse
to participate along side with me
-one girl says "eww you're stinky"
another tells the teacher and i'm called
over to his desk,
raising my shield against the pressure
-but his pointless lecture pierces
through my defenses beyond measure,
his words spit porcupine-like caterpillars into me,
the metamorphosis begins it's miracle
-embarrassment unbearable,
hyperactive butterflies are born as i shiver,
aware that this moment will be unforgettable,
he explains how i have a hygiene issue
and that my vice is disrespectful,
hosting a heckle show for the students.
mismatched attire sacrificed
for personality,
adjunctly dispatching my shower allergies
-braces embrace resemblance of junk
on teeth coated with miniature garbage cans,
crusty lips sucked and licked with husky lifts
of shredded skin peeling above a rusty fist,
dirty tips sit at the end of nails
failing to entail,
embedding the braille with leprosy.
an epiphany's energy credited intelligence,
blessing my perspective
whilst discarding the credulous
brains washed in order to smell acceptable,
i'm rewarded with reason-ing,
escorting the essential goal of hygiene,
the swings
of my moods are losing momentum
as the wind calms down and out
-bountiful bouts are fought by the caring of my health
"i clean, you clean
we all clean for hygiene!"
is what seems to fade into the black hole
of my hijacked soul as the lukewarm liquid
trickles through my shampoo-coated hair,
soap smeared on every side of my body
-i use my moisturized palm
as a cleansing technique.
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