You were a flash of light across a sky of total dark.
You saw their shocked and gaping jaws then it all
Returned to black.
There was a brief surge of panic, their eyes pressed
You brought a swarm of confusion to their bleak but
Cognitive suicide. Insular, pathetic minds
Try to cut you off at the knees so they won't be left
Another day of life, I was drifting off in thought
But I can't escape this nightmare very long.
Young girls flag the johns who troll the block in
Waiting for their moment to take the plunge.
All of us crossing paths.
We're all in the same place but it seems
We're living in parallel worlds.
Take me back to those sweltering summer days.
Bike down the gravel road to the creek outside the base.
Sun on skinny arms, chin on knobby knees.
Squatting in the cool of the rotting of the reeds.
No one here but me.
Never understood the other kids.
The adults even less.
So I hung out by myself
Duplicate Keys Icaro
A primordial flow across the blood-brain barrier.
Cryptic ring structures bind to receptors.
These duplicate keys throw the floodgates open
On a raw datasphere of pure information.
An inner path to outer space
Or a facile article of faith?
Or freestanding parallel realities?
Ride fucking free, forty below,
It's the car that kills the punk.
Pedal for momentum, feel the fucking vibe,
Blaze through traffic, burn the red, push my luck.
There's not much I need, I ride a single speed,
My toque and mitts protect me from the freeze.
I'm ripping through a cloud of exhaust.
I have this recurring nightmare:
Flailing pigeon, her broken feet
Frozen solid to the freezing pavement.
I turn away as if I do not see.
I have this childhood memory
Of my old man screaming from the driver's seat
To turn away from an unfolding horror,
But he could not undo what I had seen.
We never spoke of it again.
Two more hapless citizens of
Note To Self
No-fly list. No-drive list. No-walk list. No-talk list.
No muckraking journalist left to take stock of
The wholesale omission of outside perspectives.
How does it make you feel to know that you voted for
So much for your hopes and your dreams and your children.
You just sat there believing in this bullshit system.
Just wishing the mob would magically come to it's senses.
How does it make you feel to know you just stood by and
Accept this moment, your spiritual cleansing.
As your hair falls to the floor consider this
Your conversion, your final warning.
Recite these words as we clean you of your filth.
Are you defying God?
What are you trying to prove?
Spare your family the shame
And yourself the sting of a rattan cane.
It's like I'm a fucking fuse
And you're a fucking hot flame.
And now I'm daring you
To step up into my path.
You're a billboard in my face.
A bullhorn in my ear.
Thanks for the status update.
You've made it crystal clear.
I'm a fucking fuse
And you're a big, dumb flame.
We describe the sensation
As a tearing in our chests
And there is a quality
In Feiburg's father's
Post-war wail that reaches
Through the world's worst speakers
Anyone who happens by,
On their way to somewhere else -