The chorus
will ignore us.
The choir
does not inspire
only praises
the holy figures
it raises
from the dead.

These flapping feathers
of holy white
that flutter up
into the night sky
carrying those
who were born
to die;

They only do well
in our fictional hell.
They only excel
when our ignorance swells
as fools falter
at the mouth of the cave
where all other innocents dwell,
waiting to be saved
by the heroes we made;

But it has been years
since I lived that way,
walking away from the shade
those incredulous leaders made.

It is lonely to seek reality
when everyone else
is ok with an ancient fantasy.

So, I pack my knapsack
hit the railroad tracks
and head back in to the black
where all traveler eventually go
cause as far as I know
there is no Heavenly place
waiting for me at the end
of this waste of space
we call the human race.

It is a ****** battlefield
that does not yield
any healthy crops
just plants dark thoughts;
Seeding seething pain.

Those broken bodies
are fractured forms
fallen from
the ravages of war.

Former friends
fermented in
the vinegar
of vile violence.

Their depravity depends
on the whims
of more wicked men
and women
who spend
lives like bitcoin.

How will we progress today?

Will we risk life attending Mosque,
Or have an affair with our spouse's boss?

Will we take the dog out for a walk,
Step on a landmine, use plastic straws?

Perhaps we'll play with our kids today,
Or call Amber Alert, wait scared, and pray?

Will we defy authority with a righteous tone,
Or leave our tail tucked, like a dog with his bone?

Will we gauge goods today for our Vegan menu,
Or show a distention as millions today do?

Will we drive around town for cheaper gas,
Or choose our pickings from picked-over trash?

Do you sling eggs and sausage for sub-minimum wages,
Or attend a visitation in a tortured MADD rage?

Will you tee off at eight, or do a spin class,
Or sit solitary watching the hourglass?

Did we place our script at the shiny drugstore,
Or wade across water to Jordan's fair shore?

Will we question the teacher at our kid's school,
Or play Avatar falling off our bar stool?

Did you set a reminder on your AI phone
For chicken delivery to your suburban home?

Will you lift copper tubing from construction sites,
Proclaiming your station in life gives you right?

Do I recline in my La-Z-Boy for a nap with a book,
Or teach someone to live with a line and a hook?

Will you take out your family,
Are you last on your list,
Will you reciprocate a handshake
Or raise a gloved fist?

Our words can't bind all our wounds,
Few are born with silver spoons,
We're not wrapped in silk cocoons.
A metamorphosis is coming
To this world of gloom,
A rousing group flight,
And it can't come too soon.

We are a chorus
of chaotic consumers
of materialistic addicts,
of capitalistic users.

We are violently virulent,
cashing checks
that are already spent.

We devour and destroy
to acquire
the new toy
or gadget we desire
to employ
for temporary amusement.

Then when someone
explains this,
claims it
can be better
we become bitter,
and break them
on the wheel of
social separation.

We consume and excrete
all the metal and plastic
crap that was manufactured
to satisfy this corporately
fractured life.

I yam not only orangey
I’m awesomely tightltey whitley
And mostly so correctly

There’s no dirt in my smirk
I believe I’m totally rightly
And you? Are you native bornly?

I was bussed here
And you are from where?
What? Wall? We’re here wrongly?

Driving I see
a slow descending
road of concrete
settle into
an enclosed
docking thing.
Only a brief glance
but I capture it
in my memory.
A handful of human beings
with all of their things,
including bags for sleeping
scattered in the back.
I imagine that
they are ***** and homeless,
partially hopeless
but I do not know this
for certain.
Like all other people
I make too many assumptions.
If I had the gumption
and time
I would walk down and find
the truths they hold
in their unique minds.