Who reads poetry anyway

even novels go unread

as I dread

not getting one last word in

its an instant world

with no need

for anyone

to stop and smell the roses

entropy is the instinct

of our design

always trying

to pull our shit together

to make some sort of order

in which to follow

its hollow

and hard to swallow

imagine it as

a cosmic coconut

our earth

is the only salvation

the land we poison

with possessions

trying to work

with what is given

its unforgiving

and newtons law

will clash

with natural selection

degeneration

destruction

deviance

and our digital demise

we wear tin foil hats

to make the sky’s spy’s

know we are the crazy ones

the outsiders

with fire in our eyes

the leaves have fallen off the trees

and I never even noticed

I am assuming its that time of year

the whole show goes on

and I am at the center

of our organic carious wheal

watching it all spin around me

we might as well try to wear a smile

have a laugh

we bought the ticket

enjoy the ride