. impractical thoughts
He must sacrifice so that
He can exist together more easily
With the community of the dead,
Unalone.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Post-Annulment
Afferent, the city bus cramps to the curb and brakes
through
Solipsistic muteness with an exhaltation startled and
choking
[People are play-things in one's reality! One must
look
Into other eyes or he'll be reminded that he is a user
too]
As the sun-god, Aten, blazes upon the terminal's
Scraped concrete--its graven image--
Making the place an Amarna,
The shelved rows of the poor men
Hear the sound humbly grazing
Through whispered reverence over
The glass-speckled pavement
In a gradual dying echo,
A cigarette succumbs to the voice as
Carrion brought to life; all the tattered people
awaken;
And a man spits toward the tire of the bus
But misses.
[Religion is a lie! Everything is a lie!]
And as he watches his own spit vanish
From the hard crest of the world,
And silently scrapes his lunch pail against
A corner of a metallic bench as if expecting the pale
To bleed.
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