The Mezunian

Die Positivität ist das Opium des Volkes, aber der Spott ist das Opium der Verrückten

AUF DAS EINDRINGLICHE GERÄUSCH DER MONSTRÖSEN UHR (PORQUE LOS CRANGREJOS DE DA-TRANG SIN FIN SACAR ARENA)

The stories presented in this section explain, among other things, how the earth was formed and people were made; why the sun is so bright; how the tiger got his stripes; how the mosquito came to be; and why the Da-Trang crabs endlessly scoop up sand.

Faurot, J. Asian-Pacific Folktales and Legends, (p. 12).

I tried to scoop the crusty, blackened leaf into my ice-dry granite hands,

only to see pieces fly off

to be devoured by the wind.

I’m shivering,

but too frozen to tighten my jacket.

I’m tired,

but too tired to move my body to lay down,

too fearful…

I’m full o’ energy,

but can’t budge to use it.

It’s night early,

but I can’t see anything in it anymo’.

We’re not seeing each other anymo’.

I ne’er ’splained why…

I don’t think I understand myself.

It’s moved on since then.

It’ll survive for many millenia mo’.

Huh…

It snuck up on me in the middle o’ the night:

Face it.

It's going to happen,

& it's going to happen soon,

& you can't stop it.

Accept it.

You haven't changed a god damn thing.

You thought it'd be gone.

But it comes 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain 'gain.

What the (lumpen)proletariat (Da-Trang crabs) produces, above all, are their own graves.

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Posted in Poetry