I'm a bengali
_____________
I'm a bengali turd, life brief and hard,
I don't even know who the fuck I am.
Definitions inconsiderately untrue,
I'm not the type on a calcutta tram.
I smell worse than dog poo too,
Yet from an esteemed holy ass.
Godawful the color and complexion,
In me trapped bubbles of flammable gas.
Also a family heirloom,
A dynasty of princely pin worms.
Very flat, flat worms coiled in,
Not ordinary my usual terms.
Hindoo I should be, by my birth,
Embedded cheeky chants as farts.
Elevation I desired as my goal,
But now on a pan my splattered heart.
The world has shattered my dreams,
How will I forgive the hairy birth hole.
How will I reconcile my holiness,
When mommy is a puckering asshole.
I sit sad I can only be mad,
I see the mommy opens once more.
What do I see—brethren like me,
Plop like before and make me sore.
The fresh feces smell like hindoo hell,
The ground beneath slippery wet.
Soon a yellow river says hello,
Cello tuned fart, biblical a piss flood set.
If I had a mouth I would scream,
Sans holes, I am full of shit and fart.
Circling a hole, I see my mommy asshole,
Gets fingered and I exit in several parts.
