words

My mind meanders
Like long treks across the Behring strait
By primitive ancestors of the human strain
And my thoughts are like wars
Loud and impregnated with propaganda
Spilling over into neighboring neural nation states
All for the sheer velocity of being
The adrenaline spike of still existing
The subconscious roils and consumes itself
And with one eye shuttered
I long for sleep, a dreamless pause
From the anarchy of I me mine

2020sm