#First World Problems

Swept along by the causal tide,
riding the waves of time

or

        if the numbers cease to speak
& the edifice crumbles,
revealing only a single peace-
full, temporal ontology,

what then?

How do we end
or continue, or begin to
make sense of it all without stories we
can now only read
            but never believe?

I think a 12-hour shift
constantly on your feet,
making pointless shit for foreigners you
will never meet

could answer that question:

“I don’t care anymore.
All I want is to feed my family
& sleep beneath a roof & between 4 walls…”

Bipolarity in Post-Modernity

Here I’m alive; a mediocre, twice-
failed suicide,
                hypomanic
in hyperreality
writing unremarkable poetry,
failing to be
               Homo Economicus, but
I’m not the only one

I know;
        this system fucks us all,
& so many of you are depressed too.

This ‘condition’ though; the flame forever
either roaring or falling so low
that it almost gives up the heat
            permanently:

the Accursed Share* tearing me apart,
sometimes corrupts so intensely
            that thinking about tomorrow
is more than I can bear..

                & then there is the voice,
I’m sure you’ve heard it too,
                telling you
it’s all your fault,
a flaw, a weakness
            
                – worthless piece of shit,
                can’t just get on with it.
                You’ve got so much privilege:
                just look at how much you can get when
                half the world lives on less than
                you earn in an hour.

                Don’t be so pathetic: you don’t deserve it –

Sometimes, I think the voice is right.

Sometimes,
I realise what it really is:
            
the propaganda of our disgusting society
that’s wormed its way inside of my psyche.

& yet knowing this doesn’t help

because
        this mind of mine can’t find
meaning in
the featherweight consolation
       of ironic distance.
I need
the romance of defiance;
I need
        all or nothing.

There’s only one decision to be made
if we’re ever going to change,
only one choice to make:

“Revolution or suicide”**

* The Accursed Share – Georges Bataille
** Guy Debord

Never let me forget…

Never let me forget
    how much
        I wanted to forget
the way you looked when I left you in bed
    this morning,
to face the dawn & the dawning
knowledge that the futile elegance of
            transcendent vision
allowing us to see
the meaningless mystery
    of nothing,
means nothing to me
        compared to you.

As every breath in my lungs
pulled like wet leaves through mud,
    you looked
        so beautifully
           at peace:

a rare orchid on the far shore of sleep…

In that moment
        I decided
to quit smoking; that moment,
    knowing
I had to tear myself away from you
only to throw myself into
the world where bullshit is King,
    felt like a betrayal
        because I forced myself
to forget:

it was the only way
I could make myself leave
    the bed;
leave the island of peace
    of our bodies
        pressed together,
just to travel
        across the filthy sea
            of the city
that doesn’t give a fuck about you,
    or me
        – or anybody at all –
to work for the wealth of others,
    so that we can sleep beneath
        a roof & between walls;
            so that we
can eat without the need
to raid bins to survive,
    & I
        can return to you
            again.

So never let me forget
that the society we live in is disgusting
    & you
are the only reason
    I remain within it.

Never let me forget.