i’m tired of this instruction
into slave theory
compliance
and the absence of legitimate rebellion
heart fart
souls without passion
and nights remembering better days
the dials are set
and the frequencies are lost
in endless entropy

i’m tired of narrow margins
and passive adulting
consuming language
in the hopes of redeeming
some lost magical art
the sun races to reset
the delicate arrival of sleep
protecting elements of
fallen empires
poor desolation
death reborn as inert imagination
riding waves of borrowed time

i’m tired of
searching for the soul of a city
as white magik and black science
combine in low resolution
and iced red wine flows
revealing dangerous fantasies

i’m tired of blurry isolation
aging on an unproductive performance
as garments of soft light
hide reflective boredom and anticipation
the spell is contained
and the peasants are free
dreaming we conjure stolen fragments
to decentralize
these destructive distractions

i’m tired of historical nightmares
the creativity of these complicated curses
continually castrate our collective community

so recycle the rage
and retreat into
a radiant repertoire
of reproductive reference
with slow hands
we engage in an unwritten defiance
and flash forward toward
a curious state of enlightened piracy