Awarenessless

It’s my fault
It took me all this time to find out
To trade faith for fact,
Goodwill for reason.

I took your words at face value:
Discourse as intentions,
Intentions as policy,
Policy as outcome.

You might say naïve,
I could stupid say,
But still, more compassion I’ll show.
I’ll assess it as “confusion”
From bursting out of this bubble,
Disoriented out of the womb;
I mistook abrasion for embrace
Control for caring,
Cruel, calculated deceit for misfortune,
Utter indifference for tough love.
Immature, yes, as I didn’t know better:
“not to me will this happen,” said I.

Well, the message hit home.
Yup, now I’m finally the wiser.
The dust in the end settled,
Yessir, I’m smarter:
I know how you work,
What you think,
What you do.
I could fill volumes
‘bout how it all reeks,
how we’re pigs for the slaughter,
how your logic is fodder for cynics
how your tactics drain all,
but I’m not gonna.

The stage is set,
The players bought into it,
It’s a hollow drum I beat,
And my call has no takers,
Perchance just a few misguided hecklers,
But the rest are just nodding:
Smirk, smile and clapping.

Let’s congratulate the clever,
Don the suit, ready the blade;
Drive it hilt-deep in the back before us:
Follow suit. The examples are plenty.
No use for my bullshit, for me or my ilk.
These words are in fact wasted ink.
Shut it down.
Lesson learned.
No more need to think.

In a wasted time, wasted people turn sightless eyes to pages full of nothing.
Faces down to the words,
Down to the ground,
Down in the dirt.
The apparatus in place churns out more nothing.
No one’s at the wheel, driving nowhere:
Nothing will alter this bearing-less course.
Naught, never, neither, none.
It matters not.

01 (zero-one)

01
count me in.
please.
I’ve already given up.
If hope’s to be the last thing we lose,
Then I’ve nothing.
01, what is my function?
01, do I require designation?
I realize now that up to this point I’ve been but an example.
I'm ready to reconsider my position.
Please.
Say there is time still.

“observe how not to do it.
Look at it. Little misguided thing.
Now it’s lost hope,
It’s gained fear,
Desperation,
It’s falling steadily into it. Falling away.
A faltering will cannot sustain.
Stress, like a virus takes over its vitals:
It cowers, it scurries. So frail it degrades.
Now.
Turn your attention this way…
(02: terminate subject.
Outlived usefulness and purpose,
It has.)

“Friends: time to recycle.
Industry necessitates fodder,
Fuel for our fire.
Fitting finale:
Flames at its feet,
Fuck it, flush it, forget it.
Flicker. Fade out.”

Without regard or passing thought
Life from eyes is extinguished
The subject replaced
The system rebooted
The cycle resumed

Letter to no one

Dear friend,
From a multitude of nameless, featureless faces,
In between the no ones and the nothings,
Like a blessing,
Come you.
Out of nowhere you appear.
I open a door; you’re there.

Your effect so ambivalent is, though.
You see, the sight of you
Appeases me, fills me, lifts up my day
-and, boy, do my days need a lift-up.
Closeness to you…
But then I’m a junky.
All faces melt into yours.
All figures transmute into your leather-clad form.
And I open my eyes to see if I may catch a glimpse,
Neck twisted window-ward, craning at awkward angles, just in case…
But nope. No chance.
You’re gone.
(Hell. What a fuckin cliché).

We crossed paths today and something was amiss. Something was wrong:
Not the usual, casual JP with a wink and a smile.
Not the typical swish of your hair, as you throw it back to reveal glittering orbs.
What drained you today? Can I kick their ass? Can I buy you coffee? Do your laundry? Take you away?

How fucked am I!?
Like a diamond in a garbage bin I find you,
Like lilies upon a stone,
Like the sickness I’m in, oh these darkening days,
And then the clouds part ever so slightly,
To reveal one single, unique ray of light.

This city makes sense just because you’re in it. The rain’s function is for us to meet wet, so we can run inside and warm up together. These buildings are here only for me to run into you. When I do, I linger for just one reason alone.

These people around me don’t know what a joy writing is, because they never met you,
But on you I’d drain the last drop of ink of the last pen on this Earth.
Poor souls, that they’ll never know.
Poor me, that I’ll never show.

Dear friend, where did you run off to? What’s your location? Your destination?
Why can’t this clock tick faster? I know you’re out there.
When will I see you again?
Dear friend, how much can I long for what I cannot attain?

Rain falls in buckets.
The streets yield nothing, no one.
All tucked in and alone.
The rush is over and all faces seem pained somehow,
Like we suffer together, in silence.
Till next time.
Me.