What of Free Will? | Poetry

What of free will?

You have none.

It isn’t that it doesn’t exist.

You simply despise it and refuse to apply it.

It’s easy after that.

“I have to do this,” you say.

“I have to do that.”

Then you rise up, collapsing little shit biscuit you are,

and declare, “That’s what adults do.”

“Welcome to real life.”

Interesting word, “life.”

You use it as though you’re familiar with it.

Makes me laugh.

Because the rut is miles and miles wide,

and miles and miles deep,

and oozes with virtually the whole of the human species

does not mean I must be in there with you, or them.

What of free will?

I choose it.

Damn straight it exists.

From up here on the precipice the endless oozy moos

sound like moans from a haunted Hadean graveyard.

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From Fractalverse: Volume Three

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Digital Art: What We Tell Ourselves at the End of the Day by Shawn Michel de Montaigne