A Limited-Time Offer

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Black and white montages

of your every day

average Joe

miserably failing

at mundane tasks.

Cut to open,

blinding white,

well-lit

studio space-

a prophet enters

to offer liberation.

His promises are grand,

his obligations are reasonable,

he tells you

salvation is yours for the taking;

he shows you

the sacred code

to speak with one of his disciples.

They beckon you

to pay your indulgences,

and enter the promised land

of Convenience.

Judgement day is upon us,

the prophet sweetens the deal,

if you are among the first 200

to accept him,

he will give unto you

a sacred chalice

that is impossible to spill

because of its NASA-inspired design,

but the clock is ticking.

You dial the phone,

but the line is busy.

You cannot live a life

of fear and ignorance

anymore.

When the words of the prophet are with you,

who stands against you?

Once more you dial,

and it rings for 3 minutes,

limbo.

Evil will not prevail today,

you tell yourself,

but you’re not so sure.

You walk in the shadow

of the valley of death,

into the kitchen,

where the reception is better.

One ring begets two,

which begets three

and on the fourth,

Hallelujah!

You have been welcomed

to the pearly gates of Convenience,

where every widget

is yours to order,

for 5 easy payments

of $19.99.

The angel on the other side

Is pleased to inform you,

that you are the 156th caller,

you have earned a sacred chalice

of your own,

what a steal!

Tuatara

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I’m from an ancient bloodline,

patient and pensive,

and to my surprise,

time flies,

regardless of whether or not

you’re having fun.

Everyone I related to

left long ago,

and all that remains

are these fraud lizards,

with my third eye,

I see right through them.

Meanwhile,

here I am,

in exile,

under a rock.

I’m from an ancient bloodline,

strong and tenacious,

I spend my days digging trenches,

eating spiders

and hissing at tourists,

what a complete indignity.

My ancestors,

walked shoulder-to-shoulder

with giants and beasts,

now that there’s finally some room to breathe,

It seems there’s less space for us than ever.

I’m from an ancient bloodline

peaceful and wise,

and for old times sake,

I’d like to revisit the Halcyon days,

and have the sun blocked out once more,

an equal playing field.

Trust me on this,

the world needs it.

I’m Being Published!

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The fine folks at Z Publishing House have selected my poem I Hope you Find What You’re Looking for to be published in their compilation “New Jersey’s Emerging Poets!”

I’m very excited and thankful, and wanted to share the link with my followers here, which you can find below.

http://www.zpublishinghouse.com?rfsn=940491.a8f6e6

Stay tuned for a new poem today, if you’re into that sort of thing…

DECLASSIFIED: Vestigial Structures

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Click here to read the original poem.

Life can make a person feel dreadfully small.

The very act of realizing that your body is a number of well-refined subsystems acting in accordance with one another is just one of them, and one I find myself drawn to every so often.

So I may be, in essence, a machine but how finely-tuned? How well-oiled?

I function, with some minor hiccups here and there. But I’m only human, and humankind is not evolution’s crowning achievement.

Evolution is not necessarily “survival of the fittest.” Evolution is throwing things at the wall to see what sticks. It is a game of inches; it’s about finding the rules of survival and bending them into a pretzel. It’s about how heavily you can game the system.

Humans have some kinks to work out, for sure. Our minds are powerful and flexible, but there are vestiges of bygone eras long since past encoded in the way we organize ourselves (I.E. tribalism), and process the world.

No human alive NEEDS their tonsils or their tailbones. But they also don’t impede the way we go about or business enough to be dealt with by the drip, drip, drip of natural selection.

But we have what we’ve got, regardless of our ability to use it.

This is what inspired me to write Vestigial Structures. Those bits of me left over from when I definitely wasn’t human.