people
solitude’s not always profound
yes, you should watch tree canopies
sway awake before snoozing back
to a deep-rooted slumber, or
gawk at whatever’s in front of you
as a whole - unlabeled and unformed -
like your feet’s by the edge of a pit
bearing an infinite expanse.
but it doesn’t matter much without
people.
what’s my purpose?
rattled my brain with that for a while.
18 characters bearing a labyrinth
on the valleys of w’s
making you run circles around o’s
before it’s guillotined by ?
no escape.
Sisyphean.
go back. retrace steps.
then do it all over again
until you take the phrase
as your lover to warm the bed
at night.
18 me thought psychedelics were the answer.
guzzle down whatever’s on hand and wait
till outlines wave sine, and
“oh wow, I’m inside the carpet.”
then a psychic meat grinder churns me through
till death makes me sign the contract, and
“oh fuck, yeah I really shit the bed this time.”
then I’m back, staring at a world made of
thread and wool, with more questions
than answers.
purpose changes.
things don’t stay the same.
they never will.
I wasn’t the same 5 lines
and a couple of rereads ago.
but what I wrote doesn’t matter much without
people.
yes, in each one of us lies an innate
need to leave a mark - graffiti on walls
of gas station bathroom stalls that say
“Joa was here.” or quotes from books
decorated in fingerprints of ghosts
because we don’t want to think about
how small we really are and because we’re
people
and we say “Fuck off” and brute force
and jam our own shin bone in a 5D
rubix cube to solve it because we’re
human.
but this whole thing doesn’t matter much without
people.
what’s that philosophical tree?
“If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?”
or
“If someone writes a poem and no one is around to read it, does it even matter?”
maybe. maybe it does for that someone.
I wasn’t the same an hour ago.
this whole life thing doesn’t matter much without
people.
to be kind. to leave a mark on the walls
of brain folds - good or bad,
better than a void, better than being
a ghost of a ghost.
that’s my purpose.
or maybe not.
I wasn’t the same two days ago.