History would make
good stories
for children.

Our textbooks
good record books
of sin.

Our medication
the facilitation
of our loss of health.

It’s not
procrastination with a
cock in your mouth.

Because that’s work too, right?

I walked down a desert road
and all these fucking cars were driving down
polluting the air jackrabbits runs in
polluting the air the tortoise walks in
how the fuck are they going to race now?

And even in the meadow I walked
not even a tree or a hawk in sight
somehow this mechanical airplane makes it.
The kid that was controlling it
was two miles away guiding the flight
with his GPS navigator.

And somehow
the tingling of my vertebrae
always stays,
the stinging of my cuts
and scrapes,
the burnt crisps of
our dismay
this headache just won’t
go away.

And somehow
this kid who just sits and
watches TV
is considered more healthy
than me,
because he has
no disease
this headache just won’t
go away.