Everyone said this day was coming,
That it couldn’t be stopped,
That ceasing it was futile,
That Sysphus’s rolling stone
Was bound to roll again.
Today is Satan’s day,
An arbitrary day full of purpose.
A day to light fires,
Print Fruit of the Loom t-shirts
With emblems and anarchy.
This day could have been any day,
Had I started my journey
A day late or a day early.
My first roommate told me
To believe in god because the sun
Is perfectly placed amongst the blackness.
I reject him and him and you, but not you.
I have sympathy for you.
The legends got it wrong,
It wasn’t heat, it was cold!
Icy slaves, mutiny, heresy, vile,
Lust, lack of trust, sulfur, heathens,
Rage, fuel, fire, Moloch, Ginsberg!
They said the Day of Satan was coming.
I have my lounge chair, my towel,
My sun oil. I have my sips of tequila,
Three olives, all my teeth.
Peace be upon you! Peace be upon you!
Hail Satan! Hail Satan! Hail!
I feel not that the beast exists,
Much less exists to spread agony like fertilizer.
I feel the beast exists in the mind
To control the weak minds of the stark mad generation.
I feel there is reason for everything,
Reason and rationale to engorge with fears.
I feel not that the beast exists in the flesh,
Yet know he is here, somewhere. I feel.
June 11, 2019
I’ve heard about your expensive things;
They intrigue but do not tempt me.
I do not plan to adapt, or change.
I have no plans save to make amends
With myself for knowing what I’ve never have.
I’ve heard about your lifestyle,
The money, the fame, the solace
Seems missing from your world.
There will be more days of misery
For you and for me. Mine will be met
With simple pleasures to heal that pain.
I understand you have no such things,
And money can no longer buy them.
June 10, 2019
Peter Piper picked out a perfect pepper.
The pepper was red and round and robust.
It had the healthiest of green stems,
The density of something cosmic,
The sheen of fresh chrome to boot.
It had no slits, no marks, no bruises.
It had appeared to live it’s best life.
He purchased this perfect pepper.
When Peter Piper brought the pepper home
He put it on the chopping block with glee.
He sliced into it excited to see
What such a beautiful thing could have inside.
Inside, it was brown, and rotten, and ugly.
There were worms and weevils and woe.
He cried for the perfect pepper, perfect no more.
He did not think such beauty could be a facade.
June 9, 2019
There’s this sign on the interstate
On my way to get my groceries
Congratulating the town’s
1998 State Champion Little League Team.
These years later, I certainly hope
Those little leaguers amounted
To more than a highway plaque.
But I’m sure some didn’t. I’m sure
Some committed arson or overdosed,
While others are doctors or teachers.
Maybe they coached a team themselves.
I wonder if any still think about the team
Or this interstate sign. Does it
Keep them awake with pride?
Do they tell their children?
Do they dream and dream and dream?
June 2, 2019