Landfills

Little hearts with expiration stamps

piled up in trash cans, 

lining the streets, decorating the corners. 

Before the trash man comes to call, 

the raccoons make their rounds,

pillaging the pleasing among these organs. 

Wastefulness at its finest, 

we dump the things most precious, 

as if they were disposable. 

And we ignore our godlessness, 

for what reason?

To eradicate every threat to narcissism? 

We throw it all away, 

Erase His face, 

and paint our own over top. 

The landfills can only hold so much depravity. . .