"... you want to be the bastard of yourself..."

a poem.

my brother has described it as "thinking about nonexistence but wondering at the same time if it's just a plastic fruit."

it almost sucks.



“Armistice”

To be alive in comparison to
The dead and
Dead in comparison to
The alive
Does not make one average
(bananas overripe and
Stale and shopping carts
Edging into sedans
With these price inconsistencies twisted around our fingers and debt woven
Into our eyebrows)
But instead denotes neutrality and in
Neutrality is the seed, the core, the
Vagina
of nonexistence

which in fact
Is not death because death
Is never nonexistence but in fact the seed of
Existence and

nor is life this
Nonexistence as it is merely the hallucination of
Urgency.
(fire alarms in aisle zero echo in
Daytime soap opera curtains, the
Fruit on the table, plastic)
Therefore it is only in the
Void of judgmental bias that one breaks
Cycle and partakes in
Banquets of surpassed adequacy;
A Last Supper of
Immortality.