Poetry

Filth

Written by Jacob Ibrag

They want to go outside and move around.

Barefoot among the elements. The dirtier the pavement

the better. Filth makes it feel real. Tired of their cleanliness.

It’s not that they want to be careless, it’s simply the option

of having it. This self made prison and its recycled air.

Homes incubating their residents ignorance.


Photo by Joshua Rawson-Harris

9 comments on “Filth

  1. may i share this on a shared poetry site of mine, full credit and link provided, of course. 🙂 No pressure. Cheers!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Being separate from others in quarantine is truly very , difficult to, handle, for we are, a social animal, and we all thrive on interpersonal, face-to-face interaction with, our, external, living environment.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Great post 😁

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I like this, especially, “Filth makes it feel real.”

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Pingback: Filth – Mah Butt Itches

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