surfacing

This constant ballet of resources

Money there, funding here, gas, food, weed, blow

It’s a life of constant allocation

When I want to understand more than I already do

In this void from which all things come

That needs to expressed: like an infection

Where everyone’s right. I’m just being lazy.

But I too know. That this is all nothing.

When the thunder breaks the sky

Breaking through everyone’s

sense of self-importance.

I have not learned anything if not to save.

 subsist on little in this desert of violence and meth

control is a farce. Like human constructs built on constructs

dreams within realities. We are the forgotten. We are the underclassed. We are the expendables in a time of excess.

And yet we persist indulgently.

some fevered corruption of reality that sustains itself

in the way that self-actualization

becomes the last kind of orgasm you need

but don’t want to have