Living in Portable Caskets
I’m just
Cruisin
Snoozing
Steppin outta my feeling + into my blues +
Wondering how many more moons cycles & menstrual cycles I gotta go through before things begin to change.
I appreciate cycles + seasons but I sense no shifting.
All us organisms need rest to evolve,
Whether we shed, grow or stretch in shape.
Heal, rest, grow + repeat,
Let the morning dew glisten over your skin...
Lay in + rinse out your pores as quick as you are to scrubbing out the scent of wet grass + dandelions.
I want change.
I want humans to love other humans like the siblings, teammates + lovers that we are.
I want humans to help human.
No middle man.
No awkward in between contraption.
Less humans making app that help humans.
Less humans making robots to help humans.
Less humans making porn to pleasure humans
We're continuing to build talller + taller walls between us.
We're walking through cities, through neighborhoods + breath-takingly beautiful landscapes with our portable walls.
We each live in fragranceless port-a-potty that we tell ourselves separates us from our antiquated ancestors + our local impoverished barbarians.
We are advanced.
We can change the world without leaving our walls.
You can't see or hear us breathe but you know we're here.
(We don't care that you see us just know our work online.)
We living in portable caskets.
We are the future.
We living in portable caskets.
Yet we say we are the future.
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