Dirt People

This squalid lot which you bequeathed us

We have made a kingdom of,

And now you foam and foment

When we reject you as the gods above.


We the people of the dirt

United under one banner

Have raised to royalty and decision making

This half-peeled banan-er.


Because everyone that follows a half-peeled fruit

Knows the secrets of eternal youth

And how to argue as inner children

While drinking fermentations of adult truth.


This poem is nonsense now, I know,

But to those that understand, I show

The path is not as lonely as it once had been

And as you cultivate your dirt, we grow.