It scares me how sure we are of progress;
the hammer beats outside my window.
Not quick to blame any more either,
if not for progress or lack thereof, i wouldnt be here.

in the midst of this paradise,
and then i see a little closer,
myths of discomfort, of overcoming,
and of separations, of the lesser evil.

and then so many good intentions
so many, this many that now
i wonder why im sitting here
not doing something not doing, i mean, something.

perhaps, perhaps because i do not know
what is the right action
when all in the pursuit of progress
ends up creating fiveteen other problems

amidst the torn cloth requiring
just the one stitch and not
so so many more.
oh theres a lot of trash. let us DECORATE with filth.