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