Latah

Doomed to repeat myself

in words

in gestures

because the truth is always the same,

a sandwich board with the words:

“The End Is Near.”

Love song laments,

transparent mysteries,

plots that thicken and dissolve,

the plans of mice and men.

Everything has already been said,

even as I lean over closer to make a point,

in case they forgot.

Atoms forged in a star come together

to make us all…the differences are

only superficial.

If only we could see…

if only we would look.

Mind’s machinations that we rely on for support

are futile, a waste of time, when time is all we have.

“In a moment there is time for decisions and

revisions that a moment will reverse.”

Only humor cheers us up.

“You’d better laugh, folks, because these are the jokes.”

Some think I laugh inappropriately.

I think they don’t get the punchline,

which is everything you see.

Instead, they believe, because they take the whole thing

too seriously, not that it isn’t a tragedy.

That’s why black humor arose.

Uniformity isn’t that things are all the same.

It exists to simulate security,

the false bottom a magician uses to perform 

an illusion,

a politician uses to hide the truth…

lipstick on a pig.

Confusion exists because the mind is not

trained to see through it.

Repetition is how we learn.