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