TRUTH Vigilante: Ew, Icky. How Gross?

Not Your Villain/Bug

Not Your Villain
Know your enemy as well as yourself and what you are capable of...

Not your villain
but a fly
led by instinct, odors
flung into sweet flesh

hums, vibrates
annoyance
but no meaning, and a bug
to you
that you could
just swat away. Not enough.

More than plastic
melded to coiled wire
at arm's length
dispatched from above...
More than a brick or hammer
if you could
soldier one up, but...

a readied, tactile, laser-guided,
high-powered, semi-automatic
gleam of an eye
no homeowner should ever covet,
send your

hollow-jacket, metal missiles
in directions mislead, misguided
because
you aimed at the last moment I hovered
as an acrobatic bug with

two days of life
in a crusty container
to eat garbage, your heap of dung,
but not wing singed
from your flammable, sky-sent
vapor trails of gunpowder

buzzy, whizzy target
not sent from anyone,
aimless, savoring the best of whatever

its genius is; or was,
before dehydrated carcass discovered
in the sill of your winter home,
when spring comes.

more insects like your missiles come.
do you savor the small, pungent death?
flick!


3.31.23
43 lines of whatever i want to call it poetry, free to flow.

something i made up on the fly. you know, because, i have hours before i die?

excuse me as i shit on every surface touched.

we near the flames of a dystopian revelation this generation could not conceive, having ditched literature, history, and lessons from life for RPG.

You know the social commentary, but ignore it. You tell me to keep it positive. Like some writer in the pre-bard times, i cloak my coded messages to you in an archaic form none will near but lovers of poetry? Depends. Do you prefer encrypted in a form with meter and rhyme that distracts with a bittersweet melody or do we want to marshal our forces, cut through the thick skulls with blow torches and fill them with the gases of knowledge of the ice bergs they are headed for? Agggghhhh, too many metaphors! How can we know what he means if he will not say what he means!! Psst. Um. Hello. Forced into silence by people watching. Nudge, nudge. Oh, nevermind. I’ll just keep coding…I mean writing.

ironically, written when i should be doing something different
no incentive to do anything but what i want
there are forces that want to squash life, annoying thing with utterances, in your home, that must be too agile for its own wit to be killed, replicated
could live a thousand other lives, but chooses this one
a bug equipped with human emotion that can be toyed with, much as a cat with crawling insects on the floor, witnessed
the cat isn't mean either, lives by its own instincts, rules, yet governed
can we think who watches the little battles and incentivizes play and outcomes? a homeowner that doesn't like/want bugs?
thinking out loud, like a buzzy, whizzy thing. clueless.

what am i supposed to be doing? since the sentences above? on the last day of the month? other than let my mind go off a chain? not medicated or anything. plenty of coffee in this gut.

and that's pretty much it. i move on. or back. who knows? who knows.
edited, so there's that.