riots and narration changing a bullshit heart

and here we are
11:27 pm
new years eve 2023
embracing the scorched routines
of another gutless year
desperately waiting
to be flushed down the toilet
of anxious expectation

unsettled and slightly littered
with moonlit novelty
and decorated lazy loneliness
we sit quietly
tortured by the laughter and chaos
of all our forgotten gods
as tragedy plays it’s social chords

it’s not all bad though
humanity hasn’t quite fully succumbed
to the extreme and inevitable decay
of social media rot
multiple personalities
and convenient living
somehow we persist
struggling along a path of
dulled passion
and shaded imagination
as we continue to labor
under all these illusions
of perpetual normalcy
and fractal, fictional freedoms

and i’m sitting here
of course with the eternal kitten
almost content,
slightly rundown
with a bottle of moderately priced zinfandel
obviously buzzed
i’m trying to capture culture
and transform ambitious intent
into an elastic reality
i’m trying to construct
the final line
of the last great american illusion

reaching for an impossible end
one threatening grasp
at subtle sanity
extended towards
a divine and random vision
as we wait, impatiently
for a storied chance
at blue damnation or red resolution


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