I’m caressed inside the womb of ignorance. Still-born to the flash of media parades, I sleepwalk through mazes of slightly varying products.

A ‘zombie to reality’ frets and struts, attempting solace in times of celebration. Seeking refuge in labyrinthine markets of slightly varying ideas.

This soul for a penny, that one for a dime. ‘Entitled arbitration orbiting distant worlds’ hits here like gravity. The pieces left behind placed on shelves of slightly varying economic models.

Falsity is revered, and so hatred and blood follow. It all turns to green gold in the fists of monolithic patriarchy. Truth obscured, if not plainly rewritten, finds curious creativity rarified, and mindless repetion ratified, taken dismissively from the origin of slightly varying theories of life after death.

I plunge through the crevass of ignorance. A refuge from reality circles me like volcanic ridges, promising safety in mazes of slightly varying choices.

Randy Edward Nicholas


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