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He's clocking out, climbing into his car.
He can do both things at once,
the time clock is just an app on his phone.
These days, he guesses, most everything
is just an app on the phone.

Phone. We still call it that.
Wonder how many people
make calls these days at all?
He laughs quietly to himself
and starts the engine,
shifts into first,
slips the clutch,
and he's on the road.

He passes run down storefronts
long abandoned, old restaurants
with four or five different names
glued to the facade. Nothing lasts here.

The diner still runs though,
a well oiled machine.
Maybe I'll eat there tonight
he says to himself.
Breakfast for dinner, eggs and bacon.
Sounds good.

Maybe he'll stay there for six hours.
Drinking coffee,
talking to locals.
Maybe he won't.
Maybe he'll take the long way home
and hit the pub for wings.
Maybe he won't though.
No matter what he ends up doing
he's always satisfied having the options.

It's not the places I go to waste my time,
the thought comes to him suddenly,
it's the option of being able to waste it
wherever and whenever I want.
That's what I really love.

He smiles a slight grin,
eyes full of sunset.
His stomach grumbles,
hits a downshift as he steps on the gas,
and cruises off into the horizon.
It may not be a particularly exciting
or overly successful life, but
one thing that's for certain is that
he'll be happy to do it all over again
tomorrow.
Perpetual intoxication is a peninsula
on which your psyche stands and
mindlessly gazes out at the water to watch
your body slowly drown in the sea.

When the only options are
a sober swim back to the shore
or merely persisting in your mindless gaze,
it's easy to forget that there's a choice at all.
Have you got 600 grand
invested in Haliburton?
Or maybe Raytheon?

I do. I support war.

I love war.

More war, more money.
I'd vote for Cheney
if I could, but
a vote for Harris
will have to do.

Governor Shapiro is signing bombs,
he should sign every bullet.
If his name doesn't fit
he can shorten it
to "$"

The whale carcass of our country
is still warm to the touch,
but we will feast upon it
until there's nothing left.

Our bunkers will be our tombs,
lined with dollar bills,
soaked with blood.

I want war with Russia,
all out, no more proxies.
Save the remnants of Ukraine
and send our children instead.
I want war with China, war
with Korea.
I want war,
I want more,
I want money.
I want to watch the night horizon
ablaze with future archeologist's delight.
Vote for Cheney with me.
Vote for money,
I want MONEY.
I WANT MONEY.
YOU SHOULD TOO.
Let freedom ring,
like the incessant ringing
in your shell shocked ears.
 Sep 16 Kevin Seiler
Rai
I got swallowed up by solitude
Addicted to its peaceful gentle touch .
It held me in my moments
It held me ….
Soon the memories you're making now
will be the ones you long to remember.
Standing beside you, I ponder...

...was the grass always this green and lush?
...has the baby blue sky seemed this vast before?
...where have these infinite possibilities arisen from?
...is my hand too sweaty to hold?
...have the stars forever shone this brilliant?
...where does time go?
...how does her smile warm me like the radiance of the sun?
...will my face crack from smiling this hard?
...is it possible to love her any more?
...how can I prove it to her?

I'll figure it out, I'll find a covered porch and a glider or a pair of rocking chairs. I'll count the cars and admire her hair in the breeze blowing between our knees as the future unfolds itself out of thin air.
A love I've never felt before,
a beautiful pair...

"what're you thinking about?"

Oh! Me?
I'm just thinking about...
Looking at you, I've missed my train of thought.
Forever blue, earth in a flowerpot.
A picture of a blazing inferno,
flames frozen in time,
is as I burn for you,
forever this house on fire.

If ever the wood should
wither to ash and ember,  
I would bathe in the soot,
I would burn to remember.
Our love is light and warmth and crazy
I love you Emily
Before dawn breaks
we're both awake
and so quietly
I run my hands
over your back.

Without words
your body turns
and those sleepy eyes
come to meet mine
in a kiss.

Forever I could live
a life like this,
with the windows open
and you right here
in my arms.
Seven years since first
I lit you up
but it still feels like yesterday,
every time I try
to give you up.
Cigarettes and cigarettes
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