(ใฃโ—”โ‚’โ—”)ใฃ

(ใฃโ—”โ‚’โ—”)ใฃ


Out, ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

POST: 0020
POETRY
02-10-02022







Iโ€™m out, ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

Iโ€™ve fucked off.

Iโ€™m done.

Can I be a ?  Z E N  M O  N  K  ?

Because I want ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ I can manifest

๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ of rice & robes

Iโ€™ll make a vฬฝอ“iฬฝอ“sฬฝอ“iฬฝอ“oฬฝอ“nฬฝอ“ ฬฝอ“bฬฝอ“oฬฝอ“aฬฝอ“rฬฝอ“dฬฝอ“

Iโ€™ll bedazzle it images of udon soup & a thicker bedroll

Iโ€™ll rig my ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

Make them small

So small, theyโ€™re hardly there

I want small ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ . . .

I want to want small ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

แถ แต‰แตƒแต—สฐแต‰สณสทแต‰โฑแตสฐแต— ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

that donโ€™t crush

How about base ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

Dirt ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

American ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

A home of my own

A couple of kiddos & a dog named โ€˜Bootsโ€™

Raised in comfort on a ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐‘’๐“‡'๐“ˆ salary

Nah

Fuck, too late, thatโ€™s ๐“•๐“ช๐“ท๐“ฝ๐“ช๐“ผ๐”‚ now

I chose big ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

10000 year ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

The world as we know it altering forever ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ that destroy time and money and language and reason and pain

Abundance ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

Impossible ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

And I want my (ใฃโ—”โ‚’โ—”)ใฃ ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ,

Soooooooo bad

I feel their potential like stones on my chest

Vice grips on the โ™ฅ HEART โ™ฅ, my big ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

Iโ€™ll ๐—•๐—ฅ๐—จ๐—ง๐—˜ ๐—™๐—ข๐—ฅ๐—–๐—˜ these ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ, then

Allah & Brahma, Thoth & Thor, Odin, Ostara

All the Gods & Goddesses, listen up, you fuck-allโ€™s!

I call upon all the angels and spirits set to guide me

to place their hands upon my consecrated ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

Push them toward reality

Zoroaster, Coyote, anyone

Anyone but me

Dammit, you misers, open the vault

give us a bit of Grace

Unchain PROMETHEUS๊ง‚

He only tried to help us when you refused

And you shackled him to a rock for his kindness

His liver tallon-torn each day

God, the deadbeat father, why kill ๐•ฎ๐–๐–—๐–Ž๐–˜๐–™ at all

Why not let him hang out?

Civilization was just revving up

It would have been so small then

To set course toward my big ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

You left it to me,

Me and others.




O come off it,

Donโ€™t succumb to the sad sap trap

Like Mark Fisher, David Wallace, Jackson Pollock,

Like Virginia Wolfe & Silvia Plath,

Like Mark Rothko, Ian Curtis, & ๐•ฎ๐–๐–—๐–Ž๐–˜๐–™ himself.

Iโ€™ll choose the hard way,

Iโ€™ll live in the question of my ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

The past is a melee of narratives

Wrestling for the possession of the present

The future, a cosmic ocean, Kแ”•แ•ผIแ–‡แ—ฉ แ”•แ—ฉGแ—ฉแ–‡แ—ฉ

Pure material, everything can exist there.

Ha, fuck, so sentimental . . . but OK

I want to churn ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚ future into now, now.

I want to pluck the pasts that best serve

Iโ€™ll walk & live & breathe ๐’Ÿ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ

Iโ€™ll time travel at the speed of my life

And it will nourish me

And I will be small

And small is good

I can do small