The Process

Month: February, 2018

We don’t know anything much no not so much at all

None of us ever

Even knows what we

Think I

 

Have come to know, which

To be exactly unhypocritical

Would be more of an, “I

Have come to suspect,”

 

Knowing is hard so

Very hard I

Heard

 

A girl go on a passionate

Rant at the bar and

She knew all she

Said but from a fact

Standpoint, she was wrong

So maybe not knowing as

I suspected she did not

Know.  The thing

 

About now is Trump

Which makes me consider

America is not was not

Ever the good place like

What dream yes there

Were are some good things

But to reminisce on teachings

 

I would argue American history

As well as many lessons

Taught to young American students

Are not truths or facts as much

As perceptions handed down

Through the most widely prescribed

culture/ dominance/ situation.

 

The word propaganda is one

I enjoy using to describe

Most things that seem subjective,

Even slightly, like old cooking

Principles not rooted

In science or our

Landlord’s promise of laundry in the

Building but I digress

 

I have come to think of

Thinking and the questions are so mean

And arbitrary but loud, have credence.

 

Like is it important

To rise in power and financial freedom before

Expressing generosity to those who have nothing

 

What is a citizen and why are they so popular

 

Why is seventy percent of the week

Supposed to be work

 

How can there be hell for the

Love people at all

 

Who the fuck is Jesus Christ and

Would society be about as

Fucked if a group of babies

Survived an apocalypse and found the

Harry Potter series and adopted it as

Their bible but only some

Of the babies found the later books

With Sirius Black involved or whatever the

Appropriate analogy is

 

Is it hard to make your baby a good person

 

Why is every debate about a

Them

 

How can I write or talk

When it’s all questions and no

Beliefs or why is it

Squirming to express the

Simple values I do have to people

Who say that they know but who

Don’t

 

I would say the one knowance I

Have approached is that bad is from

Fear; no confident and capable person

Ever is bad, no not truly, no they are not I

Seem to notice and approach knowing that

thing.

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Welweteen Anchor

I came to a definition

Of euphoria yesterday

In a momentary lightness

In my back

 

I knew

 

I carry all questions

In a cavity in

There

 

Sometimes

 

The cavity empties

 

That levity:

 

A body’s mass

Is supposed to be weighted

Flesh, bones, organs, the like.

 

Yet this

Estimated thing I

Have come to know–cavity

 

Going from dense

Clay to warm

Void in a moment

 

Gravity is acting

On it not

Known mass

 

In an instance of

Drinks in an instance

Of sex or

Being perceived as making

Sense or held or

Escaping, bending

Id-ward or helping or knowing

Truth I

 

Could drift up and fuck

Off from the prison of my

Ponderings, prostrate analogies

I could know

 

By any sense sensing what occurred

Near my body and not

 

Not know it

As I so normally don’t

 

As I’m engaged in

Parlance with a loam

Thick with askings and

Riddles regarding fairness,

Ethics, and imaginings

 

And I like it yet

The loam is

Connected to my skull and

Nourishes it the same

Way welwet does a buck’s

Antlers,

 

Causes him to become

Hewn or pointy or instinctive, able

In his maturity or

Wholly stagnant, stale, or irrelevant,

 

Waste of existence,

Miss the point?