200218A
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Commencement,
as a bad candidate
for torture,
(you can wash it out,
but it is never clean,)
there are no diplomas
from the torture academy.
What you get
from the squishy insides
of the wayward mind,
frustrates the monitor,
with interference patterns,
scrambling the alphabet
into nursery rhymes.
Confessions,
of aggravated sins,
crudely formed
into vain attempts
to remain interesting.
Being no libertine
in that category.
You can never compete
with real mastery,
at any games of flesh
and money.
A long list
of losing propositions,
makes a pitiful history.
A little worm
that is no prize catch,
and has nothing to win,
other than a make believe
fictional prizes.
You make believe,
that you still believe in it.
You are in isolation
with the Beatles,
who personalize the delivery
of their messages,
in Nowhere Man
at Strawberry Fields,
as if that is forever.
Nothing is real,
and nothing to write home about
Across the Universe.
Having lost your way,
to somewhere
you were never going
as if you could ever get there.
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200218B
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Endlessly,
on some sort of stand by,
never knowing for what,
as to what might happen.
The only mourner
at one's own funeral.
Everything is borrowed
from processions of strangers.
Hearses pass,
on their way to tomorrow,
as the one constant
reminder note on the calendars.
A social black out
across an urban landscape
that is circled around
and never recognized.
Everyone has an appointment,
they want to put off forever.
Spending their hours
evading their destiny.
A consuming project,
that most are satisfied with,
as it takes up most of their time,
and is rarely ever questioned.
The modern rituals
are watered down versions
of ancient savagery,
but with added precision.
It takes you in,
to bubble bursts
of enthusiasm,
playing on feelings.
If you buy into it,
you might get dropped
from the roster,
before your string is pulled.
You try to jerk around,
striving for resemblance
to the other puppets,
so that you might be chosen.
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200218C
-----------
There is always the fear
that comes from rundown remnants
of the cadres
of pushcart capitalism.
You quicken your pace,
past their clawing gaze.
Others feel the same
when you look at them.
You can meet up with,
nearly anything
that you do not want to become
beaten down to being.
There are other ways available
to being despised,
for those who have the nature
to fit in somewhere.
It can pay for those outings
that extend their search
for whatever you cannot find
that keeps you going.
Keep your boots on,
and dance the night away,
pretending there are heroes
in any of the show and tell.
You do not look rich enough
to attract the attention,
that some so easily get,
leaving as alone as you came.
Eventually you learn your lesson,
as to what to expect,
throwing away the manual,
of misdirection.
Various ways being discovered
to wear yourself out,
collecting public invites
as if your name is on them.
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200218D
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Figurative drawings,
increasingly abstract,
timid forms,
filled out in scant detail,
as if secrets are being kept.
Taken up as variable machine parts,
from inventories of pieces,
made more and more unrecognizable
as to specifics
of identifying marks.
Generic products,
cognizant of self styled
ambiguous markings,
not yet branded,
as belonging anywhere.
The unspecified logo
of a body of ownership,
and fenced off from any contact
into narrow definitions,
of tightening mental confines.
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200218E
-------------
Easy to discern,
that crazed look
that has gazed too long
into the impossible.
The sort of thing
that never quite gets a chance
to emerge,
from where it is held in.
A common terror
of failure at pop acceptability,
in common pretensions
at culture.
As though it pleases a father
who is forever
beyond any pleasing
of any sort.
The concept
of accurate reproduction,
disseminated,
publicly.
A children's game
of the right ideas,
as to the current styles
that all the kids are wearing.
The crucial problem,
of the wrong shoes,
on the wrong feet,
has its early beginnings.
Read all about it,
and make the right impression
into the material,
in hopes of being recognized.
Cut adrift in a vast sea
of mass consciousness,
among public transmissions
that indicate being left out.
Until the relay breaks,
causing a chain reaction,
middle of a cascade
of signals.
You strayed outside the lines
without meaning to,
choosing the wrong colour again,
so the others all ignore you.
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200218F
-----------
Cats' claws,
screeching in the night air,
curdle the chill,
mixing it up,
with doomsday warnings.
A natural tendency
to shatter the peace,
before it becomes a bad habit,
causing forgetting.
They know their place,
and you try to find yours truly,
but with no natural outcomes,
to chemistry experiments.
Everyone seems settled,
except for you,
being something exceptional,
and tagged as non conforming.
Wondering about the disposition
of any such materials,
and where they end up,
after being identified at inspection.
You are given a casual examination,
and they know you are not the one
that they were looking for,
as they leave the room.
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