Distorted Clarity

Tomorrow is a catalyst

for changing cliches

to morph in my head while I drink BPA-laden plastic water bottles filled with my own malaise.

Distorted clarity is the common theme of my life. Bouncing up and down and twirling all around looks pretty and fun when I have a smile on my face.

It is even better with a little bit of make up.

A little rouge here and some mascara there and the pain and secret scars get buried in a damp dungeon of lonliness and melancholy I like to call indigestion.

I read the newspaper to make my life feel like it means something but I all I feel is the creeking of the floor as it awaits my dancing feet.

I don’t dance anymore. I sit on my thrown of fake leather with two seats. One empty. One occupied. By my royal ass of sloth.

All the colors of my life are different shades of blue.

But gray on days of monotony.

Triangles and threes as life repeats in perfect cycles like algebraic equations of existence.

I am a formula. I am an algorithm. I will perform all functions with clarity as long as you feed me the numbers

feed me the lines

teach me the song

And I will sing it if I know the notes

and if I don’t I will make them up because that is what I do in this life of distorted clarity while no one even pays attention to the off-beat flat tone to which I live my life.

So I’ll thow in a staccato. Or maybe change the key. Or I won’t and my life will play like a round.


and round

and Round

until I’m tired of circles and want to revist that Triangle and see more perfect sqares with definitive right angles that make sense and comfort me much more than my mother’s embrace.

I stare at the gods of technology and ask them for the answers I seek.

Sometimes my prayers are answered.

Sometimes not.

They must be off playing golf with the God of Abraham and his son Jesus Christ.

They must be like the 1%–not interested in us middle-folk. Not interested in the ones doing all their dirty work for them. Not interested in helping the situation they’ve created.

Change doesn’t come from G-d. Change comes from Creation. It’s called Evolution.

And it moves in circles.

And has formulas and algorithms.

But, sometimes the circles look like triangles and the functions don’t make sense.


About heathencomehome

question marks & ellipses
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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