5 Oct 2005


Atomic Armstrong
kills another ant, for poetry this time
cause he’s a sellout poet
and he has to keep the counter clean
okay, he wants to keep the counter clean
infestation's a state of mind

Atomic Armstrong
crushes an ant under a kleenex
because he doesn’t want ant goo staining his finger
wonders if the guilt is
bleeding heart bullshit?

or has he failed to come to terms
with the point he’s come to
that is, such detachment from life
the basic breathing bleeding baseline
that the ant must die
not for survival
but to calm the shivers
of imagined infestation
that state of mind
such a solipsistic
sell out

that’s what sellout is
just your standard synthetic human sellout
clean counters, commerce, bottom line

how can you not buy in?
you’d have to be as bonkers as Buddha

so easy to kill ants, so sadly easy
they’re at his mercy but he can’t hear them beg

and after twenty two dead ants, crushed under kleenex
a spider crawls along the killing counter

Atomic Armstrong lets the spider live
it’s bigger, messier, not quite faceless enough
he goes back to packing bread

No comments:

raynaud syndrome - albums left on the table - only the coldest toes to go - doesn't much matter - you've lost it - it's rick'...