Ode to every street person who ever fucked me


You, who hoping to find the answer,
went to the doctor asking,
“What is the secret to not getting hung up on my interpretation of the reaction of other algorithms
to the waves that reflect off the particles
attracted to this one?”
And were spoken to in measured tones instead,
of gratitude lists and good works,
dragged down to Earth with cognitive-behavioral-therapy
and bracket drugs to man the barricades
this is not the way

Humanity is the medium in which we exist
Humanity is the beehive on which we trip
Humanity is of many minds
Humanity likes to repeat itself
Humanity is thicker than water
Humanity is kind of slow
Humanity didn’t make the rules
Humanity is just doing their job
Humanity’s making the omelets
it’s nothing personal
Humanity probably doesn’t even know we exist
Humanity is interested in the bottom line
Humanity isn’t made out of cash
Humanity is behind on the rent
Humanity sewed our clothes
Humanity protects me from the full force of your wrath

You, who are part of the monster they created
to chew up the evolutionary vanguard
and shit our broken bones out on the sidewalk for example
Why can’t you see?
We are made of broken bones
We are golem

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *