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Posts Tagged Fear

Today, During Meditation, I Slept a Bit

Crawl under

skin hiding cupcakes,

make frosted

tempers stop.

Blazing sun arises to

dark, lost souls. Looking.

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Was I at Denny’s with her One Time?

Baby brown booth,

you staring, then shouts

tell me you

hate me; my

mother hates me, shows me I’m

shit living badly.

.

 

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Friday Afternoon at Costco

I know it’s

me — the people with

anger that

mangles my

nerves — attacked by carts, wanting

to curl down and die.

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All of these Knickknacks Were Glistening in the Gutter by the School Bus

Throw stained socks,

empty the tank, lec-

ture light souls,

banking on, grasping on, tear-

ing us to pieces.

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America 2017, #7 & #8, Dead Factories Freezing My Worn Guts

These are not

the silly unem-

ployed, hidden

darkness ex-

ploiting

fear of dying stark-

ly alone, alone.

.

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More Dystopia Today from Amateur Carl

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Another Day, When After the Fireworks, I Knew I Was Worthless

You looked through

the windows blocking

my soul, tres-

passing, vi-

olating love, wiping the

thought, trashing heaven.

.

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Not-so-dystopian today, amateur Carl’s repossessed America. America 2017 #3.

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America 2017, #2, Digging Empty Channels

When the cre-

vice maims my confi-

dence, and ti-

ny beasts crawl,

raging against my peaceful

love, shadows kill me.

.

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More Dystopia Today from Carl the Amateur

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I Try Not to Slip Away from Who I Want to Be

 

We fixed you,

made you modern.

What would the windows do

when you have aluminum?

 

And lines, old lines, tan split by old,

above-ground lines, split by a

telephone pole, hand-carved sitting

by the door that would not allow you in

unless you showed your whole face

in the tiny box.

 

Oh but we opened a nice front

on the side and more aluminum

and now there are sadly-ripped papers

glued and taped to that window,

 

that door and the painting

on the window

look so stale, as if to be dead.

 

We gave you plenty of spots

but you sit there with

empty slices of bored, and

sleepy gravel,

waiting for action,

waiting for

the brightness of the energy

we need. And then,

 

and then,

and then,

would you watch that concrete

on the front?

 

Did we fix you, old man, or what?

No more curves or gaps or carvings.

We gave you 50s slab,

and if you don’t like it,

bang your head against that slithery, slimy wall.

 

until you bleed,

and the aluminum

laughs at you again and again.

.

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America, 2016, Unnumbered, Crashing Crumbles Aboard My Late Train

Confusion

from concrete, crumbles

spray grain dust,

curling light,

crushing spirits that fly, creeps

crimping my dead brain.

.

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Yet another Dystopia Today shot from the amateur Carl in some very small town (somewhere hidden in the midwest) sometime late in the Summer of 2016.

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When the lightness of sky, darkened and shattered by winter branches, showed me my fears

Pierce my will-

ingness, make me sail

over shocked

towers fir-

ing waves, that iron jumps, kill-

ing angst, making m’love.

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