Posts Tagged Isolation

Recursive Empty

Down, count me
red nursery down,
count me hel-
icoptors
tearing off my  strings, leaving
darkened blue regret.

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6 Comments

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-

ploiting

fear of dying stark-

ly alone, alone.

.

picture

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picture

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.

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picture

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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14 Comments

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