Masturbation in the face of banality

I don’t know but I suppose it all
must mean something:

people walk & talk but don’t look,
too much in or out of love with…

what?

I watch while they live &
the birds in the trees wont shut up;
two pigeons are fighting
or trying to fuck.

I watch this &
still know nothing.

The wind grows sharp teeth &
greedily devours the trees,
in the static isolation
of our civil jungles,
& forest jails;
 
our vast deserts of furious action,

while weather beaten rocks are washed over
by the noise of conversation:

talk about what we love,
of who we hate & what went wrong
but only one to one.

In groups we speak of safe & comfortable
things:
weather, banal media &
commodified games,

to distract from the future that awaits
& the present confronting
us all
 
with the face of forces beyond our control.

5 thoughts on “Masturbation in the face of banality

    • We do, sometimes…but mostly it’s easier not to dwell on complicated or terrifying things: that’s partly what I was trying to express in this poem.

      I like that I can’t quite tell if you’re being sarcastic with your comment. It seems apposite to the intention of the poem…

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      • Oh I missed the point. I thought you meant people were ignoring what’s important, but you’re saying they’re protecting themselves from what’s frightening. Different. If I’m interpreting correctly (again).

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      • I don’t think there’s ever only one ‘correct’ interpretation of a good poem, and even the author has no claim to what the poem really means…but yes, I was trying more to convey a sympathetic attitude as to why we avoid talking about certain things in certain circumstances. Not just fear, but also the often boring nature of existence almost forcing us to find distractions.

        I’m a little bit disappointed that you weren’t being sarcastic 😉 Interpreting text is never simple…

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