The narcissism of the man
Matches
With capitalism's inherent flex
To ununified progression
Towards policy.

Will, will have us
Roaming around universes
Battling toward star weary angels
Indifferent
To our $40 dollar lives
That is worth more on the line
Then on the dime.

Ideals were a human thing.

Imagine,
We go out
Full of vigor and pride,

Only to be

Immediately forgotten

Once the stardust -

The stuff we are made of! -

Is sold to the higher bidder

(this was a human (English) translation)

She said
She couldn't
Live without
Love

And I asked her about
Chick Web
And she said
Chickens and spiders never mingled
And I asked,

Coffee?

The waitress spoke French so
We got the wrong order
So instead of pancakes and bananas
We watched wasps stab each other
Stab each other until I felt
Something - something I felt I thought they felt -
That was cathartic, yet I was not purged for I - naive -
Knew not the extinct of my ancient illness of existence.

She said she heard Nina Simone.
I suggested to her Montreux.
She told me, stop mansplaining.
I said it was only a suggestion.

She said, I know. Exactly. Do you see the light up there?

No, I said.

Exactly, she said.

Be it this
Horror
I hold around my
Waist

Or that
Pleasure
That I hold around my
Heart

Proves pain
And pleasure
Are nothing but
Reminders

Of life
Of life
And its measures
Of propensity

If pain
Or pleasure sways
Rather
Than guide
To one's own discovery

We will be but mechanisms
Of mechanisms
Of mechanisms

Who hath no name.

Morning brought no diagnosis to the diagonal precision of the perspective in a multitude
In turn, I took the turn, and another, until I was with myself
Hello. Yes. Myself, my, I am here.
Let me be for a moment, without thought for the future.
There was a sound down the road.
My mother called my name.
That was not it.
Pressing my palm to languid concrete I foresaw the absence of my love for a country that would never - could never - love me.
Why.
Money loves money for money, not for the money getters heart.
I thought of Prague and when life was that much rawer.
Imagine life relived and simply seeking it without the jaded veal.
Gaze into the river.
Gaze into the sea.
It roars and laps without ego - solely action.
History is nothing but man's time, man's order, man's anxiety

To prove life - thus worth it.

Nature needs no validation.

Is is Is.

The romance of rotations night
Is in
It's indifference

I feast on the stars sovereignty

Wanting only to idolize

And to one day

Mimic.

It's a prism
A lost chasm
Of where words ever mattered
And matter
Was nothing but words.

Far before booked -

An escalation.

it turns into a state of

let me see

Let me see

let me see

and there we are.

There, we are.

Goodnight.