Fleeting insights
cinders drifting into the night,
reclaimed by the hive-mind
blind to the mantic fury of the lost
buried beneath the crumbling tomb of history;

with no future,
the past becomes a desert &
the desert grows
moving toward us with the slow
creeping of midnight mist…

If I started to scream,
would you believe it came
from both pleasure & pain;

can you believe
               in anything

beyond the pleasure principle,
where something waits,
for the machines to fulfil their purpose?

But that question came to me in a dream
                so ignore it:

                this isn’t poetry

                just alienation.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s