A Morning

Terrified a baby…(it probably recognized me.)

Coffee in a courtyard, table on brick, vase with

flowers, Huicholes hanging their beaded wares.

It’s all profound in the fact that it is. Where would

I be without me?

No cosmic axe to grind. It all unfolds as if it’s

supposed to. Civilization on auto pilot; decision

makers channeled into views believing them to

be their own, the train on track and moving in

one direction. We are so speedy in our lives the

changes are invisible, except  when they’re not.

And, then, we adjust to a new reality not of our

making, assuming it will all  continue somehow

as always.

When the pressure gets too great and we go 

crazy, we don’t know why. We think there’s 

something wrong with us, not the environment.

Pills are issued as coping mechanisms. Reality

gets more blurry, but we don’t care and our not

caring is cultivated to the point we accept all

the ridiculousness spewed by our controllers and

go peacefully to our guided cages. 

Coda:

Compulsion calibration: baseline

chargeable funnel with no reverse.

Flash assembly abitrary murder.

Brainwash daydream coffin...

blockhead hoser unchained.

Public accomplice smiling 

bloodthirsty teeth. 

Happy ending to apocalyptic 

peepshow?

Feets, get moving.