numbers get you mad                                                                                                                            because they got truth                                                                                                                          like glacial peaks carved                                                                                                                        correctly without your input                                                                                                                  or knowhow; with no exact date                                                                                                            Tagged to their ceremonial                                                                                                      unveiling.                

numbers make you sick                                                                                                                        like nanograms of poison                                                                                                                      divided evenly along a                                                                                                                        two hour treatment. distributed                                                                                                            smartly to touch every cell in your                                                                                                        your being; the ratio of which                                                                                                            are killing you, you cannot                                                                                                                  round to the nearest thousandth.    

numbers have you frozen, exactly                                                                                                          because they don't freeze; that                                                                                                             spinning clock and foolish feeling                                                                                                      when you discover you aren't the                                                                                                          first to discover that this doesn't end. 

you are sliding back and forth,                                                                                                              an abacus exercise,                                                                                                                      counted in only odds,                                                                                                                    thrust madly by thumbs                                                                                                            belonging to hands you                                                                                                                    only faintly Pretend to know. 

you are a number, stuck between two others, sitting along some line, hoping to help make sense.    


David Koresh

i planned hard to write a book                                                                                                               to get it down and make it work.                         

i'd stand tall on mountaintop                                                                                                                 with some shit truth that'd make you stop.                                                                                       ( maybe you would say something smart and fitting that wouldn't had come to you otherwise.)

they'd learn Wise with words i'd shined                                                                                                  to polish perfect, to leave them blind.

much like buddha, or was it arjuna                                                                                                       maybe jesus christ in his prime, jesus christ before he died.                                                          

with krishna breasts and Four thousands regrets                                                                                     i wrote and failed like david koresh.                                                                                                             


i will run my life like a broken bureaucracy

I Will Run My Life Like A Broken Bureaucracy

I will run my life like a broken bureaucracy on its busiest day.

I will sit at my desk when I should be in the field. I will be in the field when the paperwork piles up. I will plot my life in chunks and clouds. Wedges between weekends and holidays will no longer be mine, I will learn how to ask, compulsively, what has happened to the time.

I will treat my surroundings like large, sanctioned, lands. I will blame a lack of funding for not cleaning up my lunch. I will throw my extras on the floor, and excuse my bad habits and frequent lateness with a stereo roar. It's the way things are, I'll say.

I will hang inspirational quotes on my door, and invoke them when talking about the stuff I'm not allowed to do. I'll say I would be the change I want to see, but the system is so big, you know, and I'm just, well, I'm just, me. I will pin, poke, and list lines and lines of things I'll never see. I'll begin to think there's a million people out there enjoying themselves, and I'll sit at my desk just staring and wondering, why not you? 

I will break all of the pens and steal stationary. I will write up work orders for broken tables and xerox machines, but not file them with the correct department. I will complain about the coffee and not chip in when the machine is broke.I will tell a story about a neighbor who must think they're pretty special and how not all of us are so lucky. I will set my phone so it goes straight to voice mail and dodge emails that are marked Urgent or Please Reply or Third Attempt. I will become a hero and hamper at home, telling myself all of the things I'm getting right. My fish and dying dog will get me. 

 I will change the world I want to see.

I will be the sea I want to change.

I will be a broken beuracracy on its  busiest day.