Alcoholism is a meritocracy.

by maddrunkgenius

The night give up the morning when the birds say.
Dawn is a formality only.
——Non-human persons make sense to me.
——Human non-persons, too.
——An acorn is an oak but not a tree.
——A dolphin neednt thumbs for empathy.
The language of fear is vague; of love, specific.
——The question of God cant be answered by science.
——But it can make the need to ask irrelevant.
Ultimately, everything we do is inconsequential.
Thankfully, we’re dead long before that.

Bare floors, walls too except for
paintings, sculptures & candles. There’s
a red light over the performance
floor, and beneath it musicians,
singers & dancers nudge each other
into spontaneous lulls & ecstasies.

I want only a desk, a chair & some light.

It’s hard to be immortal
when the person you love
is killing you.

‘All you are is a greedy wad
of molecules, hugging to keep
energy you stole from the sun
in you & away from the world
long enough for you to manage
produce some more versions
of yourself to do the same again.’

Alcoholism is a meritocracy.

There is no poetry recited.

Why is music more accessible
than words? Because words
can’t have the music you want
to hear, but the reverse is
true.

The flame, really, is carbon glowing.

Empathy is better felt than
pretended, but for what it
matters to the other, you’re
fine to act kindly from
spite.

It’s strange but telling that each
person thinks their love is new &
unique but also thinks if described
would be universally understood
& interesting.

For most people the central question of religion isn’t existential; it’s practical. There is no faith but facts. People believe because they think it is correct & they’ll get what they want.

Invisible telepathy, lucky socks; intention in a crystal, immortal soul in a wet bag.

But the song is real, lives threaded to the fingers & throats rhythmic.

‘The waking have one world in common.’ No, not even that. But goddamned if we dont have to try.