Granulated Earth

i don’t care for people who think it so important to impress,

that they are willing to lie to do it.

i suppose saying you don’t care for something
is a polite way of saying the mere existence of such
pisses you off to no end

Shall we talk about California?
It’s all on the surface,
Like the ocean surfed in sandcrab bubbles:

I escaped the reasoning for limited trials–
for the dog eat dog perspective of relative worth.

if you have to lie to impress, perhaps we should chain you
to a surround theater playing pinochio non-stop.

let you out in 10 years and see if there is anything left
of your miserable compunction for self

though matter of degrees
all of it

some lies are worse than others
some realities better than most

and some vestiges of integrity remain abandoned on middle ground:
silent with angry child-like tears.

the baby is naked
the end
is where your footsteps began

i don’t care for people who think it so important to impress,

that they are willing to lie to do it.
fabricate their own mirror

because truth wasn’t good enough
the fool fools himself

first

wisdom fools itself last

and humility is bought with understanding
and grief

why do i care?
sit here at a plastic table
with all the electronics social security can buy
because friends and truth are difficult companions?
because smart is not how fast you multiply labels

but how slow you breathe names

my fingernail polish is chipped
my arms have muscle even though they don’t deserve it
i keep my passwords taped to the plastic table and the plastic keyboard
because ….

excuses suck
the ability to impress with truth is over-underrated.
i like to see the reality even if it’s just once

in your glued-to-middle eyes

even though i understand that priorities are not given
but taken and beaten to pulps of surrender

we’ll see who sits in a wheel chair and knows it’s nothing
because the sadness is not our reality
but how you served the last train

how if it’s one and all
i get to melt too

when i would have accepted all your faults …
even the lies
but self-destruction is not where we tend to grow

we have the house built on sand
the word spread on barren ground
and the footprints

but the hourglass is the one you don’t see
the fall that we all have
the hurt that hits your lies like broken glass

shattered and crushed beside the black hole of an elegant mind

do you think Christ should carry such broken existence?

reality doesn’t take vacations
so we all get to work harder

because you forgot to change the view

and i forgot to remember the difference

the last time we smiled

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