Zombie Zoo

Imagine being swept along by an invisible hand,

By the flushed flesh of your own urges,

By the hordes of others who would be just like you,

By the hordes of others whom you would be just like,

To the perfect place for so many to congregate

To a bacchanal feast of all that's tempting to the senses,

Consuming whatever you feel, whatever you will, at will,

Consuming whatever you feel, whatever you will, without will.

If you can still read this, there may be hope for you.

An Army of Fools

An army of fools in service of a queen

Who does not rest and does not breathe

Descend as a living panopoly

To pillage in lines orderly.

'Tis a terribly fascinating thing to see,

But there's one thing about it that haunts my sleep:

That used to be me.

Maladjustment

I was watching football.

I was tossing a baseball.

I was listening to music,

and of course I was writing.

I was revealing a dark truth–

To myself–for the first time.

My last five minutes

Just flashed before my eyes.

Your Diamond Smile

Your diamond smile,

Ageless and unfading,

Dazzles when unhidden.

You are judicious

With that display piece.

You could sell tickets.

The way the sunshine

Called to earth by your smile

Plays off your verdant eyes

and the black forest of your hair

(Which your finger takes

On a roller-coaster ride to nowhere)

Is unintentional.

It cannot be interpreted

As a sign.

Truthsayer

The art of comedy began with the jester,

A daredevil whose act went two feet in the air,

Speaking truth to power, and surviving,

But what do they call the sort of person

Who just speaks truth to everyone,

and only for his amusement?

Why I Write, part x+225: To Disappear

I can write anything I want.

I can write anything I want.

Some will praise it, take the excuse

To explain the advanced poetics I employed.

Some will lament it, wax sympathetic as they

Point to distant, biographical pains behind.

Some will point to it as a Freudian excuse

For any rout, reverse, or regret from my past.

Some will point to it and say, “nonsense.”

This will happen any time I write,

No matter what I write.

This will happen every time I write.

This is what happens when anyone writes,

Because everyone who reads is a writer,

and if everyone is a writer,

Then there are no writers at all,

and all we can read is our own minds,

With fair-to-middling comprehension skills,

But hardly a hint of understanding.

I can write anything I want,

Any time I want

To disappear into your mind.

Enjoy!

Two Great Tastes

I remember dancing to the one's beat

In the basement of Club Hell,

If only to get out of the heat.

The other played the soundtrack to my youth.

I never did mind the complex chords,

Because the lyrics sang the truth.

Never let your disparate favorites

Sign to the same label.

Hear how they collaborate

As they're best unable,

The half-songs they sing

About two different things.

I don't know what kind of music

They're trying to make,

But it's definitely not peanut butter cups.