eating the fly

Eating the fly

Songs played on the perpetual radio of life in the underground

Continuous motion of sound, static, buzzing and hymns of worship

You seem perplex almost unkind your smile is untrue as if you are a walking lie of selfish turnabout

You expected more? A church of followers’ hanging on your contradictions

You seems clownish now, a joke inside a joke who is playing whom

You try to ride a certain darkness that you are in capable of possessing for you lack the imagination of for thought; you’re a copy of a copy of a copy nothing original

The counter point at your side is the unoriginal dime store copy of fan favorite magazines’ all the words that are said have been said before …. As always and before

Boring is a life style that you have painted fine colors of life with , you gain no knowledge around you…. You just are uninvolved, unknown process of human amino acids… all the talk of children in make believe land.

Your colors bleed out in dullish grey even though you stand out like a peacock, in the landing fields of winter white

You have become ordinary, common and transparent as most humans normally do…

Vacant and lost  

Carrie Ann Kawa 9/20/12