I am a conduit

for shit

 

Quite literally

I process it

 

No coloured bins

for this or that

 

Just shoved in

and outward shat

 

A little like

our ancient trees

 

Recycled

by a few degrees

 

Degraded purposely

to Spoil

 

Not meant

to be extinctions oil

 

No second chance

for them or us

 

To coaly graves

we’re sunk and flushed

 

Filtered thin

back to the mire

 

No sheltered womb

or forming fire…

 

So where is

my own conduit

 

Through which I

too will pass as shit

 

The truth is

I’m disposable

 

Bury deep

and burn when full