[twitter renga done one tanka at a time,
at my @rojonekku twit acct, monthly]
like the redbuds - raven mack
the dirtgod's next phase
stability is a myth
at best; I cuddle with change
me and change curled up
like honeysuckle vine on
old barbed wire fences
dirtgod life theories feral
in nature, and IRL
change's seductive
siren song says "disappear
west, then south, then east"
change whispers promises of
una vida nueva
transitions into
next phases lack actual
defining moment
there is no line in the sand
as life metamorphoses
metamorphosis
of unseen metaphysics
only felt in heart
foolish philosophy of
science - all can be broke down
that "bend but don't break"
flexible philosophy
doesn't always work
born broke, still struggle, zero
safety net, no time to dream
dating app swipes right
on progressive privileged
women with bright smiles
generally left behind
by them, online, in real life
my type is cookout,
not brunch; mustard greens, not kale;
with it, not with her
expensive well-planned tattoos
sure sign we don't really match
broke ass genetics
predisposed to embrace doom -
self-medication
drunk dad said "quitters never
win and winners never quit"
civilization's
not real progress from simple
caveman times (it seems)
"progress" assumes a purpose
exists for people as whole
if no collective
purpose, why should I assume
singular purpose?
sobriety suggests I
should be progressing... to where?
craving opioid
stratocumulus escape
from bleakest landscape
the light on the horizon
keeps moving further away
no blessings to be
found, each day seems a bigger
shitstorm than before
what am I doing wrong here?
what lesson do I ignore?
got given a car
with sunroof, even when cold
mostly kept open
when the outside is inside,
that's a natural blessing
'bout to go outside,
see what's poppin' with all the
fresh redbud blossoms
playing dominoes with crows,
freestyling feral fool flows
sitting in back yard
I'll soon enough abandon -
melancholy breeze
airplanes flicker like lightning
bugs in lower atmosphere
nearly two decades
spent accumulating an
artist's aesthetic
pack in boxes since someone
else's identity changed
angry children in
next room watching another
shit redbox movie
I stare at the wasp making
drunken circles overhead
no women want me,
no real friends able to step
out their comfort zone
in a world full of bitches,
left alone, played the fuck out
should've known better
than to trust motherfuckers,
or believe in dreams
suckers are born everyday;
I certainly did my part
another day means
already convinced myself
to keep on trying
strange hotel room with two beds,
pretending all is intact
desire acceptance
so badly due to that ol'
inner-child bullshit
"little raven, chill the fuck
out," deep breaths telling trauma
many got it worse,
and those that have it better
likely pretending
"to exist is to suffer"
said stoner tramp named Booda
met Booda outside
the Columbus, Ohio,
Greyhound station, drunk
he was drunk on wine; I was
drunk on traveling strange paths
drunken universe
unfolds supreme mathematics
along strange spirals
I ain't complaining - just sit
back and enjoy Earthly ride
sobriety feels
like a mistake on Friday
nights lacking purpose
fine line between pointlessness
and hopelessness - I'm straddling
also wavering...
life as I knew it falling
apart in hard ways
all our life's stability
is nothing but sand castles
me first selfishness
camouflaged in earthy words
which lack backing acts
my needs are secondary,
and likely always have been
the naivete
to think "it'll work out" since
you always get help
as if privilege is the
universe blessing your acts
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