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daydream
pickaxe
wear
the well
draw
for sale
every
messiah
is
pointed by season
modern
time
is
clock-less reason
or
at least
the
turn buckle
ordinal
points
on
our maps
guide
painted
and
engraved with
magnets
and groceries
inside
the pre-frontal lobes
I am still turned on
despite
the jade
I
still remember
what
it means
to be altruistic
and
simplistic
needing
to please
being
written
and
unwritten
through
generations
of
industrial, molecular
breakdown,
breeding
the
genomic code
is
the box Pandora kept
and
we are thieving
its
sanctuary
with
our eyes
cutting
slow proliferations
of
psychopathic minds
in
checkout lines
tined
snakebites
in
our arteries
filling
with carbon fuels
in
go and careens
in
rubber wheeled
coffin
screams
the
radio is on
and
it is somebody’s
Elvis
again
paused
on velvet
catching
the grin
folding
paper dollars
hollering
for pyramid sin
for
the power
of
the community
to
be wielded
anonymously
without
individual glory
bore-holing
reason
keeping
each animal at bay
every
madness in harness
and
dog law response chains
here
in America
the
story
is
constantly changing
to
fit the pattern
of
politicization
too
little social dialogue
too
much topical interaction
too
many citizenry regulations
too
little corporate ones
it’s
all absolute zeroes
trying
to trickle down
to
find a sound
where
the white noise
bleeds
you the least
so
your day count
is
a long one
and
you live
with
enough hope
that
one day
we
might just
evolve
enough to
keep
Pandora's box closed
for Her
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