Celery

The whole atmosphere reeks of shared experiences
Because the little puppy doesn’t know the words for incurable differences

And now my children have turned to worms
A stream of cannibal, obese, egg-blind sperm
A precocious abuse of terms

The half-digested half-truth squirms
Because there’s nothing that’ll make the puppy learn
Why nobody wants its sticks

Misery is a mosquito