Streaming on a Loop I saw the worst minds of your generation Well, fucking everywhere Madmen in plastic pouches Clutching petroleum purses On pleather couches Counting fortunes fueled On broken backs And acrid stacks Pushing brinks in the night Where forty winks nod To the fall of all As pens run out of ink
We were never here not really even When it seemed so real so touching Feeling like we were in charge living Extra textured double shot large late Capitalist latte lives driving through Wanton lines with ordered appetites Upon on-demand sides of fetid flesh Jazzed up with freshly stewed dark Matters in skewered sleeves so
The politics of not giving a whit In defense of a strategic apathy Resist the weaponization of reality Refuse to participate in dependency Unsettle the induced hegemonies Decapitalize the inherent fallacies Reclaim autonomy through absence Fail to show up for the compulsory Stop pretending to even care Abolish obvious dissonance There’s nothing actually there
“Thanks for Nothing” — QED You ask me what this life is for but All you mean is what’s in store when Things unfold in ways untold within Those lessons of blessings and sins Too messy to untangle by any moral Math that won’t last in the quest for Cash on the nail and the
Much as anything else in this fiction Of ourselves being the limit of living While giving up on believing or even Receiving messages from beyond a Din of our iniquities broadcast out to An infinity we scarcely comprehend To which some of us are trying to get Back again following the crumbs on The
The postmortem note said something like Failure to thrive which in this sort of world Is part of being alive as we cope with it all Trying to make a joke of the fall from grace When we crashed on this place from parts Unknown having flown the ether to locate Some
There will not long become a day Up ahead to a proverbial third way To fight without raising even an arm To shout without sounding the alarm Burying seeds of doubt way far out In the untended parts of the farm By refusing to harm any living thing Accepting the blows without the sting
Dragging on years of old wars across Floors painted over with dry tears of Soft shoulders bearing weights from Worlds undiscovered except for the Fires burning through others who seem To find peace somehow in the darkness Comforted among the sharpness of pains Sparked by the ravages of time slipping Sliding eluding abiding no
A long time ago in a classroom far, far away, I had a vision that has shaped my journey in profound ways. It was inspired by a film screened in grade school half a century ago, depicting what reality might look like from the vantage point of the edge of the universe AND from
RENOVATIONS What light emerges Behind solid doors Freshly painted blue With casual dreams To withstand silence Carefully set aside For another lifetime — NOTE: We walk this fine line between existence and anticipation, keeping still while moving, wondering about the parts that will go unfulfilled…
Finally we get to that part where things start To simmer up not due to climate or pent up Gases and last gasp chances as time passes But mainly because there is never a pause Between effect and cause being the same Old game in every refrain and too much pain To go around
It was a time like no other voices in Rooms of desperate escapes from Conditions woven in the wombs of Neglectful dejection by unelected Henchman of the apocalypse within But also to their chagrin a brand new Beginning was unleashed from its Moors as the tired and poor took their Fair share of the
They spend a lot of time ticking boxes Selecting options to be somewhere else Someone of wealth claiming the flame At all costs of appearances keeping Up with the image of foes and trending In the feeds taking cues from below Far down the queue who post meager Reviews for shoppers and hoppers galore
Cogent I think right now What really rends In the end Isn’t decay Or disease Or tragic events But more so A failure to See light ahead And a purpose To continue Against all logic A tenuous existence So beautiful and frail Horrible in its gravity Never knowing the truth Ergonomic Woke today From
You think there’s always time To do the things you want to do To finish that abandoned project To get over to that faraway place To reach out to long lost friends To abandon reason for intuition To revel in awe of time and space To rediscover that dormant art To plant seeds before