Belgians – 10:28GMT

What in the hell? I don’t know where all these Belgians came from. I know somebody dared somebody else at some point, but it’s possible we’ll never know for sure. Am I perturbed by that? I suppose, perhaps a little. But I won’t grow as a person if I spend all my time wondering whether or not a bunch of infernal Belgians belong in this picture. They have a right, like any other ethnic group, to be included in this narrative, and even serve a prominent role! But they won’t. See, this piece doesn’t incorporate a single Belgian. No people, chocolate, beer, or even waffles from that place.

So you can understand my mortification surrounding the inclusion of these here Belgians. I’m so ruffled that I haven’t even bothered to count them. Did they get here on a tour bus? I just saw them milling around on the corner with no real idea of where they are or how they got there. Is this some sort of elaborate prank? I’d go up and talk to one, but then I’d open up the floodgates for every Belgian in the tri-city area! This is tragic. I wonder if they speak English. All Europeans do, don’t they? Is that racist? Culturist? Maybe they’re not even Belgian, hell.

Where does the ceiling start?
How long has it been now?
I really wish I could use my arms.

LXXVII

“Superiority killed the possum”
is a phrase rarely heard
’round these parts (or any parts),
on account of cats being snugglier
and more relatable to the average audience.

Possums also have no issue
staying within themselves,
and are inherently humble
as they patrol around the city
in the hopes of finding a suitable nest
for their up-and-coming young,
those little furballs
that could never be mistaken for kittens–
just the way those possums like it.