Wednesday, October 7, 2020

Numb. 961 Breathless For Thought (a meditation on a White House balcony)

Reality is really a virus.
To which, in fact, I'm immune.
I find reality and morals and truth,
not worth my time  inopportune.
Leaders, like gods, are creators.
We say what's real and what's not.
We're not concerned with figures and facts,
how the world works and whatnot.
That stuff is for jerks who insist on consistency
and think of things as connected,
who can not conceive that borax and Clorox
will disappear problems if they're injected.
Covid. Congress. Contracts. Laws. Wives. 
Anything that's in the way 
you have to downplay them. You have to lie.
You just have to wish them away.
You boast. You smirk. You deny. You distract.
You never look back. You attack and attack.
That, in totality, is my morality.
And, like I said, I'm immune to reality.

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