[nonsense gibberish oracle,
turning one project into another,
now this is sonnets too]
Another
year alive, wondering what it means
as them
dreams get further buried in sands of time
while
most my minutes spent paused mimicking machines,
moments
lost forever hoping somehow I'll climb
out these
numbers stacked against me, which prevents me
from
moving quite as freely as my heart's wishing,
modern
human condition - just trying to be
more real
me, less human resource. Big boss phishing
for ways
to keep me productive and occupied;
I remain
resistant, within barbed wireless fence
wrapping
circumference of brain, trained to divide
Earth
into parcels, while heart intelligence
pumps
"fuck that!" reminders, desires to disappear...
forty-five
years and counting, but still stuck right here.
1 comment:
This is really good. Sad, but well-written.
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