Monthly Archives: July 2021

Unavoidable

Catch the new season on your favorite stream
The worlds end is on the horizon.

Take a nap to enjoy a better dream
The worlds end is on the horizon.

Plan a vacation with your closest friends
The worlds end is on the horizon.

Track down your enemies and make amends
The worlds end is on the horizon.

Start a collection of the best coupons
The worlds end is on the horizon.

Travel the world to meet all your icons
The worlds end is on the horizon.

Ask for that promotion that you deserve
The worlds end is on the horizon.

Decide to live on a nature reserve
The worlds end is on the horizon.

Decide you are “done” with the internet
The worlds end is on the horizon.

Anything at all to help us forget
The worlds end is on the horizon.

A Fly

Wind blows gently across the plane,
It’s soft hands sifting through the grain;
A golden ocean crashing endlessly,
Relentlessly splashing,

Colliding with the setting sun,
Deep purples on the horizon,
Lulling the world to sleep with hues of blue,
And sweeping clouds askew.

A depression hides in the field.
A secret quietly concealed,
Some wandering soul now lost to the earth;
A cost assigned at birth,

A body of anxiety,
Now bereft of society,
Become a bloated, bountiful buffet
All decayed and fetid.

Yet the wind still finds its beauty;
Perhaps a false sense of duty,
It circulates the smell through the valley,
Life rallied with a knell.

A perfect place for young flies,
One decides as it lands on an eye,
And then skitters about to find its place,
On the face to be mined.

It rises and lands on the cheek,
A landscape both supple and weak,
But then the cadaver struck the fly dead
And said none would have her.

Then settled her hand to her side,
Contemplated the world outside,
And enjoyed her death as best as she could.
The good life, she thought in jest.

Now Within Existence

“Don’t do this,
Don’t do this right now.”
“Now isn’t good?
Now isn’t the right time?”
“Time has nothing to do with it,”
“Time is relative.”
“Relative to what in this place?
Relative to… nothing?
Nothing makes sense,
Nothing seems to work.”
“Work on shutting up then,
Work on less talk, more action.”
“Action is what got us here,
Action broke us down to this.”
“This isn’t so bad.
This is at least a quiet place.”
“Place yourself in my shoes.”
“Place your hand here,
Here you can feel my heart,
Here is a sign of persistence.”
“Persistence ruined us.”
“Persistence to endure.”
“Endure? When is it enough?”
“Endure until we can no more.
More time is needed,
More information is out there.
There has got to be a way
There has got to be a purpose.”
“Purpose implies intent.”
“Purpose gives us goals,
Goals give us hope.”
“Goals pacify with data,
Data hides loss behind numbers.”
“Data can also keep us grounded.”
“Grounded! That’s rich.
Grounded to the fact that we’re dying?”
“Dying is not the word I would use.
Dying from what?”
“What ever it is this place is,
What would you call it?”
“It is like a purgatory I guess,
It is a waiting area with nothing to do.”
–
“Do you hear that?
Do you hear that sound?”
Sound rose out of the nothing,
Sound burrowed through the fibers of existence.
Existence gasped and collapsed
Existence found itself wanting
Wanting
Collapsed

Theme Park

Such wrath has been wrought in the name of capital,
Empathy extracted from the mouth of existence
To leave it toothless and unable to chew;
Drip fed contradictions and exaggerated insecurities
Until existence is neutralized to nothing more than,
Selling our lives and our time to buy the good life at cost.

Step right up boys and girls, everyone’s a winner!

Come see the sell outs and the golden calves,
For half your earnings you can watch your own execution,
Pay double and unmask the villain
But if you’re too afraid to confront yourself,
There’s a teacup ride where you can go round and round ’til you die
If you vomit, try not to hit the operator,
They paid good money to keep you in circles,
And we wouldn’t want the rides to stop, would we?

Step right up boys and girls, everyone’s a winner!

At least that’s what they tell us to get us on stage.
Shirts and skins, but if you lose they’ll take your shirt; skin too.
And if you win, it will only be for all the people you flayed,
So at least the ones that lose everything,
Can say they never skinned a man,
But they’ll still buy the skin if it says ‘prada’ and is on sale,
To have that moment where it looks like they did, so,

Step right up boys and girls, everyone’s a winner!

I Wish I Was Taller

If only I had a pair of stilts,
Long legs cutting through the distance
Piercing their steps into the ground
Sharp points on impact finding comfort
In a place of contact shaped to their image.

If only I could walk around like that,
Towering above
What others call level,
Away from the broken and disheveled,
Away from my station
Invoking some hesitation in those that passed by.

If only I could be as unnatural as I feel,
I’d lumber around without guidance,
Moved only by curiosity,
Infected with unfounded zeal.

To be so tall,
So high up,
So distant,
That everything else becomes so absurdly small,
So intrinsically manageable.

If only I could get further away from this rock,
Yet still be on it,
Not tethered or burdened,
But inquisitive and troubled,
though not without agency.

I could scatter about like a bipedal spider,
And thread what looks broken together
Wrap it in string,
find pride in the suture,
and never be wounded.

But here I am,
Too close for comfort.