we are they
we are they [who make it]
it's a wilderness in here
big dreams, obvious obsessions
shepherded fears in flight from hope
i run into the arms of tomorrow
even there, i am left waiting
an inert rendezvous, almost
anticipated connections, unmet
at less than one degree
becoming a distant assembly
masses synoptically disconnected
unplugged and unwilling
and always online
electricity addict
defined as precisely as
approximate and ambiguous
a clear haze of emotion
a zero-sum limbo
indistinguishable and undistinguished
from one to one other
entirely too soon and too late
that is what now is
and why time always wins
broken and infinite
we are where the magic happens
we are they who make it
a woven basket rides on my back
filled with my wild thoughts
a lot, but not all of them
a couple are high-risk
proven to cause problems
some took a walk to the corner store
but they never came back
three, one, maybe two
aesthetics, purely
chaos and fringe
for the dramatic exit
one more moment known
theoretically relative
to those before it
chalked up
to the compliment it is
About the Creator
⸘jason alan‽
:::WARNING:::
i am only responsible for what i say,
not for what you understand.
you may learn to be charmed by my [secret‽] discontent,
or you may not.
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