271217A
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No questions asked,
and no real answers
as to what is on their minds.
There is the usual talk
about absolutely nothing,
given in evidence.
Sift through it for clues,
as to what to do,
that might make a difference.
What defines Being
appears broken down
to an occupational title.
No other contents,
on the outside, or inside,
of the plain brown wrappers.
After it is torn apart,
ending wrinkled up,
it simply gets tossed.
Everything being imprinted,
as vestiges of its self definition,
entirely covered over.
No one being interested
in reading any details,
on obsolete packaging.
There is no remaining demand
for THAT item,
and so it goes into discards.
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271217B
-----------
Written off
as being of no real interest,
is given a wide gamut
of new meanings.
Leaves you guessing
at all the possible implications.
Try to sort them all out
into orderly categories.
A new species of busy work,
as to getting any.
The business end of anything,
that everything always is.
Then you can play the game
of true and false.
Try to assign possible values
to each item on your list.
A way to spend time,
pretending there are answers
to your questions,
if only you look for them.
No one told you,
and no one ever will tell you.
You never knew
“the right people”.
Leaves you guessing
who those people really are.
It makes you suspicious
about the designation “friend”.
“Friend” designate,
filling the temporary vacancy.
Stand-in stunt people
play narrowly defined parts.
Role playing games
being all the latest rage.
Replacements enter like bullets
into any breech.
You do not know anyone
in any really personal way.
No one who is interested
in anything you find interesting.
A shot into the pitch dark,
trying to make any connections.
Nothing other than dealers,
always lurking in the wings.
That becomes the given bounds
that you are confined to.
The way any lunatic might be tied up
in tighter and tighter straitjackets.
Pleasant dreams,
that you can ever do anything,
that you would actually want to,
with anyone you could want.
That has become a new violation
of the prime directive,
concerning total interference
with any resemblance to possibility.
All of that highly suspicious
as to being contrived situationally.
Creation purely by arrangements,
that you had no involvement in making.
That provides the context
in which to discover your “self”
as to your own freedoms,
from any further association.
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271217C
------------
A sort of extortion
where someone always wants something,
but you never know what they want,
or who they really are that want it.
You flail yourself about,
wildly against the walls,
as if there might be a way out,
but no one letting you in on it.
That leaves various attempts
at elimination,
until you exhaust the entire list,
as to what can be shot down.
Only what is dead,
and what you are completely dead to,
being entirely eliminated,
in a relentless narrowing down.
Trouble is when nothing remains
that you can actually kill,
and they want more than that,
and there is nothing left to give up on.
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271217D
-----------
Your plug has been pulled.
Part of you feels it,
as if life support is turned off.
YOU are being drained out,
felling all the intensity
of minutes left to live.
Grasping at futile breaths.
Unable to turn over,
as much as a new leaf.
Others have scribbled on
and edited out the previous pages.
Destroyed your entire story.
No longer to be considered
of any real relevance.
You have completely ceased to be
any sort of person of interest
to anyone worth knowing,
that might have looked into you,
from any angle,
as to being any sort of option
within their own contexts.
You simply did not fit in
with anyone else's plans.
You were a deletion
from their repertoires.
It was a clumsy move
that they did not want to make.
Something no one really wanted.
Left no way to respond
to any objections,
you know what it feels like
to be a corpse that is thrown
onto the barricades,
going nowhere at all
that you might have headed.
Head on a stick,
the stick figure,
pared down as to any detail,
that might have been noticed.
Meant to frighten away,
anything that comes close
to making any difference.
Know yourself always over ruled,
no mater what your argument is.
Plague victim's chance
at attracting anything better.
You get to be eaten away at,
until you are as forsaken as bones
left rattling in the cold.
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271217E
-----------
Running dog eats running dog.
Pasted smiles,
stuck up indictments,
on passing faces.
Secret hatreds
the newest fad.
The in and out of it
defining who gets along.
Stag nation
of saturated formalities,
as to nothing against you,
but nothing for you either.
No one actually gets away
with neutrality.
They have to fight for it,
by hurting others.
Mutilated thoughts
litter mental landscapes.
Worthless artifacts,
create disposable existence.
They all want the very same,
one of a kind,
knock off thing
that is mass produced.
Value is something
that can be found
by means of voyeurism.
The poverty of mirrors.
Gaze into shop windows,
for next season's prophesies.
You can mail order anything
from catalogues.
Listening to strange sounds
ghosted
into heavy traffic,
coming up from gold mines.
Everyone is talking
about their paranoia,
but no one says a word
to you.
Public disturbances
are the new normal.
Random shake downs,
and mass cave ins.
Do not expect any news.
Forget tweets of regret
from management.
Wannabe killers.
You have to practise,
at never making it.
The next level
is where it starts over.
Shiny fishing lures
baited with litigious phrases,
offering another chance
at hurting yourself.
Put the bite on something.
Show your teeth,
snarl fiercely,
and try to chew them up.
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