like what you see, maybe

I have this theory
that people end up looking how they deserve.

Sometimes this goes with their name
like, geez David, you really looked like a David
when you were smelling your terrible index finger
and your nature
is something I can't apologize to you for now
(as if I were any way responsible,
but I did feel responsible
for not immediately hitting that asshole in the face).

Mr Boggis, were you too weird to love?
Or in what I see in your face
did you decide one day
to make yourself too weird for life in that way
the affectionately departed
once called sowing wild oats?

Plain Jane,
you fucking dipshit hop head,
sticking screwdrivers up your plain ass
for a laugh in bathroom parties,
your face looks loose but pinched
like your nerves have stopped feeling
and your muscles in your bone structure
gave up trying to express who
you never were to the world.

August, you were too kind
and it looked like you had plastic surgery
to be some sort of sychophant ass grabber
maybe at the time you roll your eyes
you should know that glad handing
and sleeping politically
lead to that awful fungal infaction.

James, always something about that "hey, its a living language"
with you
so its no wonder that you look like a fucking dead hamburger.

Why do I even call this writing?  It is more like ticket writing for
the litany of small and large crimes
the human race
er, slobs
have perpetrated
on this hellish journey we have all shared like a fucking artillery shelling.