Save All Life

An idea is a powerful thing.
You have the seed of the idea of being well in you.
Trust that idea to carry you daily.

Going nowhere. Doing nothing. The world is ending.
I challenge you to show me where and how I must interact,
Where must I thrust my sword, parry a thought, carry an idea.

You fill your days with distraction.
I cannot act. I have no traction.
I am up to my armpit in shit all day,
Riding a stupid one speed bike to the hardware store
To buy a tube of plumber’s putty to plug up the shithole
So that when you come over you can shit in my boat.
Home is a safe place to take a shit.
Everywhere else is a locked bathroom,
Fucking inhuman humans.

I wanna skin and eat your goat.
You goat fucker, you.
I have resentments.
Vain dis-contentments.
I have a blister on my boiling pride, grist for the mill of me,
For the hill of me, over the hill, wandering stupid pedestrian will.

He turned off the television and expected beauty,
Wisdom to fill the smashed vacuum tube of him.
No words came. No game. All and ever after shame.
Fame flipped him the bird and went sailing.
I hate my life. I love my life.
I write to dump the skull fucking trash.
Take out the trash of you.
Into the vacuum of television
You dumped your trash into my consciousness.
I don’t want it.

I want a new drug. I want a new soul.
I want the world bought and sold.
I want nothing. I want nothing. I want to be left alone.

I hear you found a new leader to rule you demo-cratically.
I hear the Krauts are happy to be rid of Greece.
I hear the feast is on, the fast flight into mad melting night.
I hear the chickens have plucked you gizzard empty man.
I hear the tin can tango telephone bore more bad news to the front.
I hear he takes it in the rear.

The other night with cucumber and fresh grapes I made a fool of myself,
Made a needle prick prick of myself.
I made her wonder why,
Made her question her resolve in..

Leon. Jesus.

I moved tables to get away from the psycho end of the world banter.
I moved tables to escape talk of suicide off the golden gate.
I moved to write.
I moved to try and find something positive to say.

I picked a fight with the woman today
Then hung up on her when she tried to fight back.
I am an asshole.

My mother taught me how.

I feel bad for brushing Leon away.
But I had to.
One can only handle so much psychic hammering.

Don’t bury your head in the sand, he says.

Harriet didn’t look so hot.
She looked mildly unhinged.
She looked unbalanced.
She looked as though she were about to cry.
So when she told me I looked good,
I didn’t immediately respond that she looked good, too.
I had to think about it.
She’s a lovely woman, but tonight she wasn’t glowing.

Jack went away and left a vestige of a woman behind.
Jack went away and left us all behind.
The dumb and the tragic and the snarly fight-picking assholes.

I don’t like being an asshole.
God grant me the serenity to quit being an asshole.  

It occurs to me that Save The Earth is too abstract for people.
If current environmental indicators are to be believed
We gotta find a new way of selling Earth salvation.
How about this:

Save All Life.

© Rick McKinney
July 2, 2012

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