December 3, 2015
paleomammalian brain triangulation...
paleomammalian brain triangulation
is a brine of reasons we often
don't give a fuck about you
(we need the crows to survive us all)
Are we in a rush to a judgement era...has technology
and a further and further divided sense of propriety
given humanity over to an incurable mob
mentality...perhaps, rabbit, perhaps...I'll just leave the
gas on and fall asleep drunk while watching some TV
and smoking cigarettes...they'll write some blurb about
carelessness and there ought to be a law...but most of
you will have made up your minds...driven by
descriptive shallow fomenting of a bent sense of
immediacy...you'll plunge right into your fantasy while
the poem knows...that I have electric smokes and
bangers, mash, metal jacket-ing and the Gaia principle
I'm just thinking about how the drumbeats of our
streets of modernity are epitomized by these electronic
cigarettes...bingo caller auctioneers and the collars we
wear, presenting ourselves as part
of some group different from the rest of us...
are we still human
having more humans
who then have more humans
just to have more humans...?
they too will lose their cool too often
playing heartless fools made offstage
somewhere as being someone needing
to be constantly entertained and stimulated...
our brain is a hardwired survival, our body a vehicle for
those roads and our spirit, well at one time it may have
been an unbreakable thing...now we're sold to sell
ourselves between the heavens and hells in piece-meal
subscription plans for an after-world of pleasure or pain
depending on your perspective and how much moral
debt you will be perceived to have attained trying to live,
drinking kool-aid here...
the best form of gun control might be education, well
intended but corporate serving writs and legislation are
divisive at best, destructive at worst...see stupidity is
contagious, comfortable nimby hypnosis, even more so...
we have become mostly sheep, fed sheep and more
sheep...the lions don't even say thank you
anymore...and we wouldn't know
that to object is to assert
how free souls interact
in a wise and compassionate
common good seen...
this neighborhood, Mars says,
is no longer thriving
in a way it might
or should be...
the blue marble next door's
viral contaminants have run roughshod
over the verdant tongues
dotted with mountains
the rivers between them...
where and when do crows stop picking up
the ever dropping pieces of my humanity...
I'm as matted and scattered
as these beds of maple and oak leaves
caught in swept curbs along the sides
of houses and cornered front lawns
on a warm December morning
after a night filled with rain...