No one understands

No one understands humans
who fails to recognize that human
capacity for illusions—illusions even
contrary to interest or how human it is
to love what so obviously harms us

We’re dust-based water infused matter that thinks

Howard failed to become a medical doctor
He got his doctorate in psychology instead
just like his mother—Howard’s unrealized
dreams “Your father, your fucking father”
she mocks me just before our break-up

Hope is our toxin

“I like Nixon” the young suit said
to another suit in the elevator
Didn’t care who else heard him “He’s
obnoxious but I like him” “He’s
obstreperous and wily, so I like him”

Those false fitful days are done

Mom once said “This family,
we’re not easily impressed”
Only an idiot takes seriously
the modern idea that the human
animal is somehow improving

Illusions our fellow beasts simply don’t need

I do love the smell of bagels baking
first thing in the morning
You’re two dimensional to me now
Your third dimension collapsed
and nothing I did could save it     

Our world’s a messy, fraudulent place

A hollow, heartless spectacle
Like the ancient gladiators’ blood 
Like the Aztec human sacrificial screams
Like a chaos of desire and violence
Like our fiery fierce first warrior loves

Order’s a thin veil stretched over chaos

The effects it produced—enthusiasm,
fanaticism, magnanimous sacrifice and
heroism, the usual effects of any great
illusionism, the actor’s larger than life
projection of our personalities

Her presence was a gift life gave him 

Deep down he’s kind of sappy
He cries easily over love, death
or loss stories—pathological,
subhuman forces beneath an
intermittent radiance of light 

In a mystification of dust

-December 26, 2020-