Afraid of being afraid we listen to the speakers
in their boxes so that by knowing what is out there
we can maybe hope the lies are coated with a residue of truth.
Entire corporations are built on people making themselves
look like idiots for the world as well as all the others
who just latch onto it and ride the wave of constant morons
to the highest places out there you can find.
I don’t mind people letting others know when they are
headed in the wrong direction. It goes too far when
where they’re going is ignored. Everyone is going
to end up somewhere and how that ultimately unfolds
is based on all the things we know we can’t command.
I remember her freezing hands and how they gripped
the arms of her chair in the theater when the sound kicked on
and made the room into a box without an echo.
We hurry home at every chance we get to just forget
about the daily fight to stay who we are out in this place
that eats what is unique like it is skin off of a freshly
slaughtered lamb. When I think about who I am
the first thing I define is what I’m not and to clarify
those points I just look back through all my failures
when I wasn’t someone I could stand to be around.
Out in the rain I look for higher ground and all I find
is time to watch the clouds grow into something new
but like a monster.
The red lightning never leaves the storm but I can see it swarming
in that flying water like a snake in an aquarium.
I am driving at the limit of my engine toward the place
where all the downpours are the heaviest because I want
to know what the center of the chaos has to offer
if for no other reason than the boredom of retreating
has become a greater toll than any danger.
When I get there I am disappointed that the sky clears
and all the cried tears are now just puddles
that are scattered to the wind by passing cars.
Teleporting Typewriter 