[twitter renga done one tanka at a time
at my @rojonekku twit acct, monthly]
failure demons spring
forth from dysfunctional mind
steeped in hopelessness
sown seeds decades, still no fruit;
perhaps my path is poison
the horizon keeps
moving further and further
away; and I'm tired
"sleep is the cousin of death"
cursive letter chest tattoo
futile swiping right
on dating apps for cursive
letter chest tattoos
love women who's making poor
choices at lifetime level
"only god can judge
me" - not even then though, we're
both consensual
priceline express deal hotel
room smelling like feral love
rental car smelling
like fried chicken gizzards from
random country store
contemplating bad tattoos
together - a crow dragon
ended up getting
"CURSIVE WRITING" but done in
old English letters
on my neck line from behind,
can be covered by collar
she got "OLDE ENGLISH"
in cursive writing tattooed
on fleshy left breast
obviously, I'm in love;
guess we'll drive further westward
wild and wonderful
promise of deep southern West
Virginia awaits
let us disappear, and build
fresh chaos, elsewhere, for now
responsible life
has death grip around my throat...
struggling, but choking
the right thing is a shackle
which keeps me in line, like corn
psychic slavery
born from meritocracy
myths sown early on
justice remains a social
construct, never seen in wild
social bankruptcy -
I declare myself free from
these devils with fire
the smell of burning bridges
makes my dick hard to this day
perhaps not enough
burned bridges to be honest;
bitches closing in
sulfur keeps fake asses at
psychic arm's length, maybe more
most people fake as
fuck, selfish, yet personal
brand as most righteous
fuck y'all fake motherfuckers
FUCK Y'ALL FAKE MOTHERFUCKERS
no love for dirtgod -
my natural shine given
nothing but skidmarks
folks who think the world's gone to
shit must be new to losing
laid in hotel room
half the day, afraid to leave,
afraid to still live
went for walk tonight - so much
wealth... where does it all come from?
they've enslaved palm trees
down here, forced into single
file between wide lanes
the grass manicured tightly
as proud cop's shitty haircut
back home, they've enslaved
spirit, planting wild dirtgod
in cubicle bed
or perhaps cubicle grave...
"work sets you free" it's been said
Monday afternoon
just before 2 - first thoughts of
"my job sucks" this week
no progress to be made, just
looping through same old circles
meetings to discuss
meetings where we'll finally
decide what to do
decisions tabled for now
'til further meetings are held
working within this
immense bureaucracy like
building sandcastles
artistic purpose ignored
for "being responsible"
fuck all your fake ass
responsibility fears -
it's a goddamned lie
my dumb ass gonna be dead
one day, wasted most my life
send psilocybin,
fat asses in stretch pants, tape
decks banging that Screw
send sunshine and bad tattoos,
please send the Power of Lounge
warm day with promise
of spring, promise of rebirth,
promise of real lounge
this life I'm in feels like trap,
gamecock confined to a cage
domesticated
beyond the abilities
of my genetics
too feral for sitting still,
too wild to not burn bridges
sitting in sedan
air freshener crisp, but hands
smell like gasoline
open the sunroof and let
all fucks given blow away
ya boy the dirtgod
tired of a lotta people's
bullshit fake ass ways
surrounded by these human
facades, pretending they real
the algorithm
ignores "real recognize real"
self-meditations
people think algorithms
are as real as rain today
within limited
scope of this electronic
power gridlock? sure
but there's a much larger world
where data metrics don't help
I'm not no fucking
machine; I'm not no fucking
computer either
perfectly imperfect man,
stumbling through shit existence
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