Post-game Incident
We learned just enough to be little and find still no escape at all. What worm is this? In what wood? I’ve met your enthusiasm, now lost to both of us.
What world is this? In what mood? I can’t understand anything despite a close reading of sunlight across the cracked asphalt parking lots that now blight every corner of this country. I know what I know, which is nothing. Which is slightly more than nothing, meaning less than nothing on account of the mirrored delusionsall certainty blinds with.
What habits are these in my manufactured existence? I’ve leapt from great heights only to discover the dirt under my sneaks would always be unimpressed. Accounting tricks can keep us going but for how long? How many hair ties in your sock drawer? I am trying very hard to not care or to care less but. One more penalty and I’ll be finished. I’ll misunderstand you on purpose and without mercy.
This is the Oracle of the Grapefruit. Or so we’ve been told. One step forward, though little else remains. Bring me a baked oyster or else. Or else what? Line of seagulls atop a chain link fence. New memories still unclaimed and aloof out there. We turn every day from inevitable, but it can only take us so far. I don’t cope, I escape. Until I can’t.
A purpose-driven startup in pain, financially speaking. What language is this? What masks to wear to the daily screen? I found comfort in the warmth I stole from you and I’ll never give it back.