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Plastic Money | Poetry

Aecxal Lightning: Digital Art by Shawn Michel de Montaigne

What aggravates is the memory, and the sneer.

Both tell me the same thing.

I don’t count, and nothing I ever do will change that.

I’m delusional if I think I can.

Change comes like lightning in the dark.

The darkness is others: their minds, or what passes for their minds.

Lightning flashes, and change comes, but they don’t notice it,

so for them it doesn’t exist.

But change comes.

They’ll deny it to their last,

because they so desperately want to win,

and because they live like plastic money on a broken game board.

These days pass, one to the next, undifferentiated.

But that’s the mistake!

There are unseen currents above, below, to the sides, swirling close ...

The atoms shift, and, more powerfully, so do spirits and souls.

Sneer all you want. You celebrate sameness,

which means you celebrate ignorance.

There is no sameness, you silly fuck!

What these days tell me isn’t as important as what I tell myself within them.

Despair isn’t a friend. I thought it was once.

It isn’t even a guidepost.

Because I can’t see the currents doesn’t mean they don’t exist!

Because I can’t feel them doesn’t mean they aren’t pushing and pulling me

this way or that.

The same goes for you, you sneering bastard.

What you want for yourself shares nothing with decency, with true joy,

or with true valiance.

You cheer the silver-screen heroes because you think you share their strengths and virtues.

You don’t.

Truth is, you’d hate them to hell were they real.


From Fractalverse: Volume Three


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Fractal art: Aecxal Lightning by yours truly