Lifetime

this is not
war-torn-territory or
UFOs descending upon our parade, nope

there are
little reasons to consider this
isn’t a cup of coffee

or anything strange outside
of this
brown table for a desk, nor

the black tea
I sip from within a
Pepsi emblem plastic

embrace, the world
seams, a donate
of itself

to the dreams of
what fills our desire, bellies
in an instant of lunch, while

Libya
in a boat across the Mediterranean, will
they make it, could they have
without the millionaire
from Louisiana and his Dutch wife—and

what about the millions of others who
may find relevance in Hollywood franchises, Marvels
and the comics of an industry, while

Thor

may actually
be
hearts’ of humankind
alike and

most likely without a
reliable gender, she, it
might be

animals

of breathing, what
it is
to be a body, to
have

something within it,
as our true

lack of identity, is
our true

state of being
alive—but who
in these dark

days of
government policy
confusions, will
remember

what
wasn’t
in
the inventions
of

man
but

held
in the
abstract
of
imagination

where

we
can
imagine
any
world
we

desire

and
birth
it

in the shape—
anything
with wings
flying

to populate
each other’s eyes, and
thoughts and

time

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