Malaise
I throw my sweater off the table to write some nonsense
I can't believe the state that I thought we’d never live long enough to create
It’s hanging outside my periphery like pasts estranged
There are companies all around me
They create the scent you remember when you dress in the morning
Facilitating the emotional response of your heart at peace or soaked after a good race
Hide my face in your breast until I'm breathless
Help the helpless ventilate through skin-to-skin disintegration
I dont like the world we rotate with
It’s captured me in its rythym as I looked the other way
Some feated place with birds embalmbed and words misshapened
Dead mice and the cats chase them
I craft a bagel with cheese and a coffee of bad water
I watch carelessly, but I'm too cautious for solace
A paranoid child grown into a skittish novice of many thrones
I walk days now with flaccid interest under sheepish lamp floats
Snow trickles, but it does not grow
I pay for parking like a patient pays for treatment
Order me a Woodford iced while I leave to the bathroom
I’ll let the mirror read me my diagnostics
This is a seldom human environment, and we look for our chances to soil it
Crossing over to the dark techno like pyrrichs
The loss is insignificant in the moment
It’s more human if we do it and notice
I call everything imaginary anymore
Only sleeping because my dreams must be worth something
If only for passive mining
My data is in the trees, and I watch them no longer
Finding grace in their age rather
Picking petals from the garden to let them fade somber
We can no longer engineer life without malaise
And in the stars, the great generations sway like a bag trapped in the sewer gate
We’ve nothing left to latch our feelers on but a cool vibranium plate
The gutter above me leaks waste and bores me to fiction
I spend my days like the man in the background whistling
Draping my sweater over my shoulders, I stare into words I wrote for my neighbor
And I believe the company could sell it for me later