Posts Tagged Isolation

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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One Day There Was Betterment in a Tiny Auditorium

Children holding his

tablets, moving miniscule

planets. Forget my

past, he screams, slowly curing

needy pieces of dog fur.

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

These are not

the silly unem-

ployed, hidden

darkness ex-


fear of dying stark-

ly alone, alone.





More Dystopia Today from Amateur Carl

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America 2017, #6 — One Day I Was in the Old West in the Middle of An Abandoned Street

There is park-

ing in the rear, but

streets are emp-

ty, screaming

at me to stop short of life,

watch her wander by.

























Another Dystopia Today picture from amateur Carl.

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Two Days Ago, That Joy, So Repressed

Like a dog,

I stretch, legs brittle,

brain panting,

paws digging,

that joy, so repressed, hanging,

chained inside, broken.

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How Might I Squash That Fear?

Later, I remem-

ber being stricken

by dread of

what they felt:

How much did they spy rummag-

ing beneath the crust?

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Today, Briefly, Trying to Be Good

Forcing myself into the death chair,
thinking, now I’ve got it, now I will do

what it is I lie to myself about being
mandatory, feeling so disciplined when

really, I’m alarmed at how close to
nothingness I have become, and that

dark crevice where inspiration lies
is filled with contempt for being,

and the doctor might try, but the
required self hatred fills the hole.

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Riffed Out of Easy

Listening to loud Middle
Class Rut, wishing I
could run away to
their fields of play.

Some things are simple,
blare with clarity,
and they’re impossible.

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She Melts My Competitive Spirit

I was coaching my team,
winning handily.

She was coaching the other
team, and I loved her, so

I crossed the field, told her
how to work her players so she

could beat my team, as I knew my
weaknesses, and she beat us, and I

still loved her, still today, always.

Her merciless, innocent smile
still kneads my heart.

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I Want a Robot (4)

to cover the streets I run
with hot caramel, helping stop
the best people and he, the robot,

could look like me, but
everything about him would
be loving, gracious serenity.

I’d be fooling the best
people while I read the
best books about what it’s like

to live, too afraid to do it.


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