The Red Pill

I observe my world and resist being callous I collect furniture for my memory palace Except for that discarded recliner sitting along the highway You never know where that’s been

We all want a life less lifeless, to be a one-and-only To be a master of something, not a no-trick pony To be a lighthouse, a rosicrucian beacon Not that distant clock tower that you can’t read anymore Destined to be unilluminable and without reason

Let’s be distinct— like those skyrise balconies lit like ornaments Or those three orange triangles marking a trucker’s bad day Or that ink stained sailboat making way for a duck armada

Stop using brainwash shampoo Just use the Suave— it works as well as the rest I’m not saying be misanthropic You just need to adjust your optics

JArtB

Friday, 24 December 2021