farewell to all these daily illusions
never forget that autumn malfunction
quiet, cryptic, and revealing
as the sun, the moon, and the stars
maintain this maniacal marriage
of heaven and earth

red sounds roam
and these days the sunset
never seems far off
winter whistles a brittle song
but nobody listens anymore
walking in slow motion
we wager tiny chips of destiny
as bad habits
continue to purge
our waning souls

logged in and tuned out
local gods remember
rippled rhythms
whispering silver songs
soft and simple
sitting here in dynamic slavery
lost, and slightly out of sync
we send calculated signals
hoping for the faintest response

iridescent questions under lamplight
with quiet art
and virtual reflections
we are read and misled
by a glazed and digital friend

i’m seeking a lit existence
something a little unusual
in this specious reality
because most nights
it’s just too easy
to become bored and drunk

hypnotized by capitol decay
the heart has this sort of
temporal disfunction
and in this docile haze
life feels like
a fractured form of fiction
waiting to be pieced together

reckless and rigid
we pray for reasons and recovery
we pray for delicate rules
and concrete essentials

the hope is
that poetry will purge
these fragile and fatigued ideas
but try as i might
i just can’t type
another virtual reprieve

tired and managed carefully
with a familiar misfortune
i sit and pretend to dream
silently awaiting
the next stray theme