Blue lobster
genetic disorder
rare condition
seafood restaurant
does not exist
unless there are many
write it out of the
history books
in the hands of
uninformed people
tearing apart facts
for personal gain
and speaking the mind
of social conditioned
fetuses
frying brains
and insane whims
decondition yourself
and fall apart at the seams
gracefully
like lotus flowers
blossoming
or like blue lobsters
thriving and self identified....
* * * * * * * *
I only have unlucky numbers. When I squint in the sun, people think I'm smiling at them so they smile and wave back. The more irritable ask, "Do I know you?" "Not very well... we just met," I reply. Some wear shiny diamonds and metallic things that sparkle more than the glint in their eyes. Some people smell like burning sulfur when they pass. It is reminiscent of the smell of bonfires when an asshole throws something plastic in the fire. We used to drink beer around fires in the backyards of our parents house. To hide the evidence we would melt the cans. We breathed in those toxins so blissfully unaware of the effects. To be unaware is to be blissful, always.
I only speak in code. There is no codex. I am a maze with no outlet and we speak clearly in convoluted bursts of words. How clarity shines through this dark mass of syllables! What censure! What enlightened motifs! These notes all bend together in glorious phrases, like angelic prose in prosaic poise. Now we are getting somewhere, he thinks to himself. Hidden in merciful shadow from the glare of the sun. Now the smiles are sent and realistic. They are not the squint eyed smile of doctors or scientists through microscope. There is abundant life on micro levels all around.
We are so unaware.
