Because the World is Round

Existentialist Ramblings

There isn’t any vindication or satisfaction tonight;
Only bruised kneecaps and a hungry stomach
and a bottle of vodka and putrefaction
and the yearning to be less evanescent,
more than someone you’ll never meet
less than an idol 
and somewhat like someone you’d like.
If time were tangible I’d have grabbed it by the reins
by now and sent myself as far away 
from the street signs as possible, 
because dogwoods in the springtime are just as good. 
But invincibility is the eighth color we’ve never discovered
and bones, memories, banana peels-
all biodegradable.