Friday, November 25, 2016

saving the world.

i'm going to draw a picture today, for all of us.
a nice picture.
a nice picture of guns- accuracy unresearched prior
and always.

something to address our stink of paralysis, to convince others
there's a complete language that's inside of us
requiring our defenses. we're channeling whatever sense of integrity we can
is what we're doing, actually.

this might turn out to be the solution
to getting it all out-

not a single microbe left inside. indigenous extinction. okay extinction.

understood right away as okay by everyone.

someone will take one look, understand, and run to their phone and call 911.
a swat team will arrive and then we'll be set free
from our kidnapped scene.
i'll sit on the back of an ambulance truck, wrapped in a blanket, crying serene tears of victory. tears of joy. smiling. an angel at last. holding a cup of hot cocoa.
i'll talk about helping others and really stick to it this time.

being a kaleidescope will turn out to be a gift.
the breeding of vision
will not need to slow down, as it will be pure from now on.

the walk into the gardens of the grounds
will be a hop, skip, and a jump
into homeostasis.
as will meditation.
as will fruits and vegetables.
as will all the teachers
who've never dared fuck up.

our former seeking of homeostasis
by deviating into injustices, trying
to match that which was strongly detected-
excused, we'll look back at it and laugh.

everyone will laugh. i'll start dressing in white.
the fungal infection has been extracted
and sent to jail for eternity.
we'll all turn down anti-biotics effortlessly.

our former captor will not turn all grateful and humble
in jail.
it will not stop drugs, nor
will it adopt healthy attitudes toward life.
i will become the one
to become a monk.
i'll wake up into a headdress
whose weight has something to do with fertility.
from ancient greece onward
will i be permanent.
there'll be some ornate parade in my name.
and the former infection will be sorry; saying, "sorry" over and over.

i will forgive them when i choose to,
citing that it's hard to, is why.
it might take years.
it will all really mean, "sorry" by then.