---

Bow,
pledge addiction.
Allegiance,
to vain narration,
and conquest of our dreams.
Our warped windows,
poorly masked misery.
Already so familiar,
in its anonymity.
Busted freights flash by.
I hear I'll learn, in time,
to tune out the squeals
of steel.
The fumes of shit and decay.
Foul, festering depths
of inflicted wounds.
All the nightmares
I never remember,
for all the wasted days
I can't forget.
I tire of this stubbornness,
inevitable regrets.
No delusions of clarity,
outside subjectivity,
I seek simple pleasure.
Worn out.
Patch-worked,
into obscurity.
Trampled underfoot, all life
that springs forth afresh.
Unnoticed, till broken,
under grinding wheels.
Through endless repetition,
endless repetition,
and worship
of petty variations.
Narcissus watches up
from his shallow grave.
We stare back,
oblivious to resemblance

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