Winners wear medals on top of pyramids
and look down at the losers,
though some say winners only look ahead of themselves,
always trying to find a way to achieve more,
never content to win once, starving to find crumbs of
the essence of success only to consume it whole and move
on. I escaped from citizenship in order
to speak out, grappling at the hope for freedom and free will.
It is as if I was given a blank puzzle with
no picture to guide me to the right tabs and knobs but the hunger
and senses to move a hand to connect the slab. In the shadows
and dark corpses of the present I am desperate to permanently
mark the pavement of my life so that I can make a future
memory. For without the light of your past you cannot see
where your feet go on the steps outlined by tomorrow.
My heart relishes the colour of pheromones stripped
of identification. The only white light that poverty knows
are the irises in famine’s eyes. The only way to be remembered
is to murder Ockham’s Razor or become a celebrity by
lodging bullets in drive by shootings.
You cannot save them all:
Superman is a myth they built to grow on us all like commercials
grows on us during the Superbowl, the police are meant to enforce
the law. Life is the feeling you get when the earth spins and falls
gravity evicts us. Alright, I won’t lie to you; I am really here to
tell you we are all just copies of chairs in a headless body’s imagination.
I was supposed to be a tree until the leaves took one look at me
and decided to commit a genocide against themselves.
I am a scavenger hungry for parcels of verity
and the freedom to pursue death. Heaven is wasted on the dead;
the living need God’s marrow in their stomachs
and digesting in their heads.