Though they assert they’re not
It’s that time of year
As winter taps his frigid nails against
Autumn’s clock
We’re reminded
Though we may pretend
We can’t stop the seasons nor change the tides
All living die and
All things end
While a regular cold and flu season
Begins again
Charlie was a good boy
zig zagging over creeks, through fields
a time long gone yet still remembered
some folks willing to keep memory alive
while children’s minds burn away
the fire stoked by fatigued parents
no longer packing lunches in their poverty
abandoning maternal urges in ugly rebellion
against nature instead of society
how cruel that Charlie’s world is gone
a fantasy a child shall never more live
the cool grass beneath bare feet now plastic turf
upon which lolls a kid, game controller in hand
and channel changing between two minute videos
five minutes now too long an attention span
for the precious lives establishing
our future, autodidactic meets idiocracy
I miss nature, and civil society
Such a betrayal was this:
That your fast friendships
Overwrote years of promise, sacrifice, love
Your quick fixes and sober thirst for escape
Kept you trapped, stuck fast, held soft, not firm
I hope you realized the advice you canvassed
It still seems you don’t know whose to follow
Your own untrustworthy tongue clamped
by repression and a determination to omit truth
felt not by touch
yet quivering heart
moved by words
breathing taught
stomach knot
separate by space
elusive here
screen before me
illusively near you
sounds from mouth
and meaning birthed
upon your lips
that felt not worth
of magic spell
cast down from mind
rippling through
this soul of mine
One day we will recall
how we contributed to our own enslavement
Or we can forget
like we always have
And lay the blame
on someone else
So much for lock downs
Gone are the days when
Doing your part
Was staying at h♡me
Now to do your part
Is to submit your autonomy
To rulers intent on
Achieving numbers
Improving economy dependent on
Temporary numbers
To secure an insecure future
What will come next?
I cannot say
But someone should
Depose to dissent
If only to capture
At least one other perspective
Though there should be
Perhaps millions expressed
Hegemony or survival?
I say “yes” to each
Tetris block that falls
I say “I left space for you”
there is no good or bad
everything fits or doesn’t
I do my best.
How could I do more?
Your Playlist:
A Poem in 80 Songs
Runtime: 5 hr 10 min
Do you think about me often?
Like I’m a
Hex Girl?
Lucky You
because I
Diga, Diga, Doo
too
How I’d like to do
The Jitterbug Waltz
with you
Unchain My Heart
Spellbinder
I find your voice
Super Good
Tonight in the Moonlight
I Hope You Dance
Dog Trot
Dip It Low
and even
Lose Control
with me
we’re
Very Busy People
part of this
Nowhere Generation
Cherry Picking
On The Banks Of The Owichita
In Another Life
I think we were
Up and Rolling
I think we enjoyed
A Quiet Life
by the
Riverside
maybe on
Such a Night
I was your
Gypsy Queen
you, a
Wayfaring Stranger
melting my
Stonecold
heart
are you the
House of My Soul?
because
The Truth
is that your
Spring Fashion
is in
Perfect Harmony
with my
Taste
I felt I could be
The Yellow Rose of Texas
but then the mournful soul that sang
Tennessee Waltz
(It was Patti Page)
because you already had
Too Many Friends
Counting Bodies Like Sheep To The Rhythm of The War Drums
while I was
Running Up That Hill
yearning for a
Higher Devotion
thinking
How Do I Get There
thinking I’m a
Bad Liar
thinking I can’t
Stop Thinking About You
even
Dreaming of You
nothing
Quite Like
anything I’ve felt before
at
Bedtime
with a
Mind on Fire
thoughts of you
Tearing Me Up
making me want to
Ruin Your Night
too, for making me
Think It Over
think that it was
Signals
for me, but it was just
Scotch and Soda
for you
I was a
Girl from the North Country
wandering, wondering
Where Have All the Average People Gone
not the one with
Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes
so when I feel this
Ghost Pressure
I call you
Troubleman
wondering
What Else Is There?
wondering is this the
Wrong Vibration
I
Got It Bad
and you’re
Making Me Nervous
because
I Got it Bad And That Ain’t Good
so I picture you saying
None Shall Pass
and the beg my
Fatal Fantasies
of you
Fade Away
knowing just the same
I’ll See You in My Dreams
In the Early Morning Rain
with your
Slow Hand
and I
Dream in the Dark
that I’m
Chainsmoking
Your Love
as if it’s the only way to
Stay Alive
and I’m
Beggin
Think About Me
Turn Your Love
to me
in
The Land of the Silver Birch
we’ll
Moondance
Tonight
Wasted
until I
Fade Into You
until the
Evening Star
is
Fallin’
For You
too
and I know I’m
Falling for U
too, thinking
I Fall in Love too Easily
I thought I was the sun
And I helped your garden grow
But without the rain, without reprieve
I scorched it to dust
And nothing more could thrive
Because I was relentless
We are lunatics
begging for rebirth
without wanting to experience death
What is a renaissance
when we can’t stop taste-testing
the poisons in our world
If we should relinquish
our attachment to destruction
and in turn accept death…
what then?
The Halfwit Writer