I can’t see where the jokes end
and the mockery begins.
I always wanted to believe
the best was possible.
People moved like divers
at the bottom of the sea
pushing against the pressure
in spite of all the dark.
The grocery store became
a collection of specimens to harvest,
and the arcade in the corner
was a place you could pretend
to shoot the cowards.
A metal pipe rolls in the parking lot
having broke off one of the cart returns.
The metallic song of its escape
was like a drum solo cut purely
out of the imperfections
in the pavement.
A record made by accident
by a group of men paid nothing
for their time.
This world does its best
to convince us that there’s
something out there we
have to have or there’s no
point in anything at all.
An eye made of glass
for the eyeless matched
perfectly for color,
or if you were really original
you’d buy one that was
opposite your own.

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