After All This

I’ve seen whole birds torn apart
with just the motion of some lawn mower blades.
I wear my shades inside because florescents
just remind me of the hospital.
Yeah it’s true I’ve cut off two thirds
of my fingers in the span of just these last
remaining summers.
Although, I’m pretty sure my family tree
has been fucking up for centuries.
I’ve been to sit in protests at bowling alleys
where the ashtrays started to overflow
at around hour five until it all began to track
across the lanes.
There is a habit I posses of hitting reset
too early when a cartridge for an older video game
is having trouble waking up after all this time.
The humidity is a reminder of rain
but not the same as when you’re caught
out in a downpour.
I waste an hour of my day just to walk down
to the corner store, and nearly lose my ATM card.
I don’t ever want to try hard because I find myself
distracted by the scenery, and all the things she does
to make it clear to me that everything
adds up to a conspiracy, beyond the
darkest contemplation of whoever
sets the message in the margin.

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