This blog fazes fascists
Carrion Bird
Long before the wheel life
When travel meant kicking up
Clouds of choking dust
(That never reached me)
I cruised the tracks and trails
Finding what the travelers killed
Finding the killed travelers
And munching all without bias.
I wasn't picky.
Nothing to knock.
Just a part of the flock.
Now I cruise the highways, unhurried
Hanging on blackened fingers
While monsters roar by below
Giving me a bellyful
Of what cannot escape
Their frantic rush
To evade
At any price
The one predator
They all dread:
The ticking clock.
Martyr's Lament
All I wanted
Was a change
A dose of truth
A taste of power
An egotrip
...And followers
Which I got.
Thought me divine
They hung on every word
Notably, the most meaningless.
How could I explain
Disbelief in
What I taught belief in
After the cheering section
Stormed the field
Changed the game
And tore down the goals.
My mistake
Was to see anything in them
Other than a reflection.
Through the mirror now
My name is worn (out)
To sanctify, justify, vilify
Things I never dreamed of.
Disturbs my eternal sleep
Knowing this long night is "mine"
But they'll never stop
Basking in the renown
Of the onetime me
While I rot.
A Three-Line Refutation (Of Earbud Zombies)
Turn up the volume
Until you can't hear
Your own whimpering.
The One True Platitude
The world hates you.
It wants you to suffer,
And it wants you to die.
It will get what it wants.
...But wants need not be gifted.
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