Blithe Humans

"I offer nothing but blood, sweat, and tears,"
The man said, this time meaning mainly sweat.
"I haven't had these polyps looked at yet,
But I've developed many useless fears."
He vomited up mucus, then switched gears:
"I think the pus remains a little wet,
Although it's hardening now, almost set
Into hard fungal scales that smell like beers."

This is a song of love, a bright landscape
Of fields, tall grasses, clouds, and swaying trees,
With hares and Herefords, so all one sees
From one end to the other is the rape
Of nature and some deity's cruel jape:
Hyenas, monotremes, blithe humans, fleas.