blistered errands

tiptoe across that blistered field
do not disturb said occupants
the waves generated
when you trip the sand's withered hairs
will evacuate into a tsunamic
blast of loathing
i do not care for you
i don't even acknowledge your
resistance
most would ponder your
reasons for space
some would question even your right
i on the other hand
refuse to give you one micronic itch
of satisfaction
why should i?
i've come back across that field
littered with the disposable carcasses
of novices on fool's errands
can you say the same?