normal person institution
I’m walking through a futuristic thing
called a portal, except it’s boring
and it leads to nowhere…
listen, why don’t you save your
enthusiasm for something that actually
gets you going, for stuff that’s truly moving,
for the kind of action that makes you
float, for the kind of device that makes
you feel free… to whom do I give credit
for the accelerated decrepitude of my
poor little cerebral cortex? who do I
thank for the eyelids that I need to
nurse, ten times a day,
three times this month,
I’m sick of warm compresses —
they only feel good as a consolation
for the bad, to mitigate the swelling,
bloated egos all around, they too
make me a little nauseous, all hopped
up on nothing much at all…
strength is needed to combat the torpor…
take me to the normal person institution,
where the slogan is, “we know you can,
but do you really want to?”
it’s for the folks who’ve been trying
a little too hard, but they’re honestly
kinda sick of it… they just don’t wanna
fucking do it anymore, okay?
I’m having nightmares now
where major friends become loose ends,
despite everyone’s best efforts…
we don’t need to know about the natural
to survive — we rely blindly on the help
of “experts” to get us through the day,
yet most of them don’t know what the
fuck they’re doing either — life is just
as shitty for them, up there,
in their sacred chair, as it is for you…
our brains are shrinking, you hear that?
