The sometimes traumatic
and oftentimes familiar scent
of bullshit can come out of nowhere
and blindside you with a haymaker
like a fragrant bully,
whose only goal
is to rob you of the change you’ve made
during the overtime shift of life.
Dinner dates at a mutually favorite
restaurant, where you’re served
an appetizer of bullshit over conversations
about leaving the past dead in a hole.
Life makes new,
it washes clean,
except when it doesn’t.
Undercover bullshit disguised as intimacy,
masquerading around while you hold hands,
and share kisses amongst the crowd
before sinking down.
fired like buckshot from a Remington
as you wander wounded
through luminescent fields of bullshit
in search of the safe, warm welcome
of a heart to call home.