Standing out there with
A couple guy friends
I tried to pay her
For this bright powder
Like I swapped with her
(She who only lights
Her cigarette with
The blue of the flame)
Cash for this baggie
And literally
Her friends were burning
Money outside the
SEGA (watched them fall
like red cardinals)
Flaming paper bills
Spiraling in smoke
Yeah my money, too
So I wtf
But key myself up
And pretty soon I’m
Seeing steel flowers
(Those you see in death:
Hallucinations
of geometries)
And I’m saying thanks
But I have to beat
A high score inside
“Sure whatever man”
And actually
She was kind of rude
But who cared? Sonic
Went around back then
Tag Archives: prose

days
chatter,
hypothetic
conversations in mind,
the talking spirits ceaselessly
distract
from peace
of mind enough to stop and hear
the forest getting on
together, as it has
for days
Studies Show Beauty Show
“Studies show attractive people
Are more beautiful than people
(Who think of themselves)
(As unattractive))
.”
“Using a scale of appreciation
(Controlling for this and that)
Confirms what we have always
Suspected
.”
“Beautiful people are (in fact)
Beautiful
(Whenever (and only when)
They (are) attract(ive))
.”
5:55
In the morning, I leave my body and float to your house, a cool specter, a breeze traveling in a breeze down three streets to your little box snuggled against more boxes. Your curtains tremble and the dawnbeams struggle toward your face, because I have always brought the temperature of the room down upon entering. And you speak in your sleep. It’s cold, cold. No. It’s too cold. Go away. So your room and I sag woefully and your walls wilt and I float on, homeward, and close my eyes. I stretch my flesh back on and pull the sheets up closer to my face to escape the cold. Then I roll over and check the time on my magic voice machine, lately a quiet birdcage. And outside, a day stretches its way out of the tenebrous fibers of a night, like the emergence of a warm, wet egg. So phantoms may no longer roam. And somewhere, you wake up.
Central Idea
God is the center. God is society, the most powerful members of which are at the center, like the centerpoint of a circle (a social sphere), like the point of an essay, like the pithy thesis, the heart of the argument, the central idea, so to speak: the God sentence.
Simile is the center between two like-things. So when I say that being at the center of attention is like being the core of a planet, understand that the connection between the two images is itself a form of cohesion. But let’s get back to the point (which is God), so my paragraph can cohere, so it can be maximally impactful, so it can have “mass” appeal, which is to say that it will be like the sun god which is massive and grew by way of accretion, the process of gathering, like a post amassing Likes and more Likes. Like an extended metaphor connecting and connecting.
God is the center. God is the group, at the center of which safety and warmth is found (and a tabernacle, and an ark, and wings), like the warm core of the earth, like the red hot heart of the body, like the heart of an argument at the center of a body of evidence. Like the body of information in the nucleus of a cell, all the evidence in a good argument is related, relation itself being a process of accretion, accumulation, then connection and cohesion. The body of evidence, so to speak, is as healthy as it is wealthy, as the body is healthy:
Some studies I have heard about claim that religious people are on average happier. Some studies I have heard about claim that depression is more prevalent in low-income brackets. Some studies I have heard about claim that there is a nutrition gap, that the wealthier are able to eat better. Some studies I have heard about claim that people who have more sex have higher immune systems. Some studies I have heard about claim that people with higher immune systems have more sex. Some studies I have heard about claim that having more sex can help you have more sex.
More sex, better immune system. More health, more wealth. More wealth, better nutrition. Better nutrition, better immune system. Better immune system, more wealth. More wealth, more happiness. More happiness, more sex. More sex, better immune system. Such Good! All by way of accretion, like a snowball, like a greedy star whose center can indeed hold. Or is my reasoning circular?
Anyway, this accumulation of Good connects back, ties in, relates to the point: God is the center. The center of infinity, the polymorphously perverse point at the beginning of the universe, from which all thoughts and energy and matter combine and spread out like new topics from a thesis statement in the sky.