Twirl three times & seek the blood of a panther

Photo credit: Scott Cain

Inspired by: These are 10 depressing truths about human nature, by Christian Jarrett-Aeon

They call it St. Urho’s Day
Certainly not all the fun awaits us tomorrow
Inside the soapbox I expect business as usual
Hidden under a blanket of clouds
Sorting yard waste, and snowflakes into semi separate piles
My work here is typical, a flip of the switch and twist of the knob
The noise level in the control room is overwhelming
High repetition music, and constant chatter with your mannequin echo throughout the vessel
If this is true for you can you say it through your eyes too
I use the lever to furl the brow
Because help is needed to strain into my ignorance across the void
And I wonder if you like when I make eye contact
Will you provide a sympathetic understanding of what it's like over there
In here the floor is still moist with the remnants of a drunken folly
And the kitchen my place of ugly desire
For every chocolate in the box
Reveals what compels me for sure
So I use the gob to direct an inquiry
Maybe your reply can affect the mess on my desk
Clearly you already know of spin and prejudice

Photo credit: Scott Cain

They say market identity and brand awareness trump the contents

Well look no farther than der Seifenkiste

You may call me what you see

Maybe today will be the day you share photos of yourself on the big guns

Or if not perhaps a tour including a peek at the work space behind your control seat

I awoke with no certificate of entitlement to judge

Hopefully before the river turns green you will see the real me 

And my concept illustrations, with spaceman spiff in tomorrow land

Then you might know me best when I immolate my own relevant facts

Although Hahaha, It’s not like I have never tried that before 

Follow me over by here to the right,

I have file cabinets hoarding an abundance of over confidence

Each contain an instance:

Where there are those, whom benefit is from those defeated

And neither are deserving

But your familiarity with me is not knowing the behind the scenes in you

Which suggests your machine is possibly more human than my human

You see my switchboards don’t work as I think they should

And too my inhibitions system

Long ago jury rigged with drunken workarounds

These repairs provide frustration

Another example: when schadenfreude wins! 

your pain leaks capriciously through my bypass valves and out the gob.

Yet I don’t feel I allow this enough to your liking.

Only you could know of your bemusement 

When my OS left me stranded at Tannhauser's Troll Bridge

Don't worry I labeled that secret "confidential"

I too rely on the telex

It seems most are unwanted software updates

Do you too accept them from a friend who must be I and a good person

I wish this urgency did not complicate our understanding of the fullness 

My vessel is becoming frail from years of dancing and exploding

This philistine master is too often absorbed battling a rival tribe for the illusion of control

Photo credit: Scott Cain

They said to anáil

Switch the ventilation system to manual

And slow fill the wind bags

At ten, I open the release valve 

It’s only loneliness and exhaust through the gob

Seems my Jedi mind powers don’t work for shit

So I leave the gob lever on standby 

While frustration compels me to  pull the shades over my portholes

Apparently there is only me within me

I wonder why it must be so difficult to see

How your spin at honesty could satisfy the fabric of a lifetime 

With a cocktail and single slice of American answer

Won’t your stare reveal karma 

To be no more than a grand illusion cloaked in desire.

Never mind that 

Your mannequin is chattering again

Telling me to give up the ghost

And to push the button that performs the shrug

If you only knew 

How much I love the need I have for you

Inside this soap box of righteousness 

On a ball in the nothing

Where Your photos of the canon

May never wake me

Because despite what I have to say

Our silence was all too easily broken by strait pipes saving lives 

And I was preoccupied praying for mindfulness 

While my prejudice attempted to reconcile you

When Humiliation, became my fate of imagination

I wish not this burden upon you

Where the you inside you remains my ignorance across the void