It was the kind of relationship
that would make a dominatrix blush
and stare down
at her stiletto heels,
Between him and the world
things were…complicated,
A vitriolic antagonistic
hate-hate affair that seemed
like a slow simmering stew
of angry disappointments
flavored with acrimony and disdain
with a dash of revulsion for flavor,
He didn’t believe in the world,
That is to say
the world in common parlance,
The accepted appellation applied,
The underlying assumption made
when the name was uttered
by the humanocentric neo - pseudo
would be wanna be deists who
worshipped at the Altar of Self
He certainly believed in this
rock shell around a molten iron core
wrapped in the thousand gauze veils
of clouds and atmosphere
as it spun dancing in solar winds
and wandering through infinity
as it had done since long before
there were any to name it,
Just as it would continue to do
long after all the namers were forgotten
It wasn’t culture in and of itself,
nor society in some generalized form
because such things flow and change,
Like hot caramel around a perfect red apple in October,
A little patience to see things settle
often leading to something sweet,
The World he loathed
and which loathed him back,
Ran on illusions and lies,
Impossible hopes and ignorant dreams,
The worst game show ever made
for an audience the players never saw
but which wasn’t happy to humiliate alone,
Oh no, it could and would kill you too
but even though that cost was clear
the participants played because
the noise and the color and lights,
So much shiny temptation
and maybe just maybe they might
be granted a glimpse of more,
Ah but he wouldn’t join the show,
When the hypocritical ly hearty
announcer ’ voice bellowed out
“Come on down! You’re the lucky,
Oh so lucky next contestant!”
He simply got up and left the studio
peeled off his name tag,
Left it stuck on a Klieg light,
There were many games he would play,
But the Game of Greed
was not one of them
So it began,
Antipathy against apathy,
Disinterest dueling with disgust,
And no lack of lacking
on either side
The World thought he should care
that it didn’t care for him,
While he made no pretense
of pretending it mattered
until it became what it’s become,
Mutual bitterness and active anger
all as nothing more than a shadow
in the light of a foregone conclusion-
The World will win as it always does
but the spoils of victory are not now,
Nor have they ever been,
Anything he would want
goodnightsandgoodvibes
