The preparation of the defiant.
Increasingly
Those who continue to defy the median
Who run in the walking lane and
Fly across shipping lanes,
Seem to be retreating further back and
Down into their regressive fantasy,
Locked into a delicious spiral,
Dense and craving and dark and warm.
Conversely
Those who tow the line,
Who remain stead-
Fast and fancy free,
Those fuckers increase in size
And bank balance,
Inwardly and outwardly,
Quietly and cowardly,
They dwell in the shallows and graze
Bovine like.
And they all accept the inevitable end.
Though some remain buried in perpetual denial
The others prepare for it every single morning,
From 5a.m dreams to sunset.
They prepare,
Careless
Happy and worryingly defiant,
Stupidly wrong, as they spin down to the singularity
Of
It.
And still you run the race
Burn Molotov cocktails in place of adrenaline
Still you climb walls
Buildings
Scale Olympus Mons
Still you chase down fears and burn your past to dust
Still you dance to the song of your lover’s voice
Her truthful stare
Her breath on your neck while you lay there
Sleeping like a simple child.
