Why are you not banished from society,

you take up room and smell of disgust

and yet there you are still being rammed

down our throats as if your very being

is somehow natural, ordinary, as accepted

as broccoli, as native as rain, as seasonal

as a hot day in August

or six months of winter,

I detest you, you make me ill to even

think of being near you, I would happily

find room on a cargo ship,

put you in the middle of the ocean