every human comes into this world:
with an off switch that doesn’t work,
a closet that has no internal light,
a menu full of unfinished sentences,
a crumpled map stating, “you are here”,
a dream that starts with no moving parts,
a retention syndrome that others will indulge,
a need for subject-object comprehension immediately,
a whole that somehow has lots of intimate parts,
a future ambush coming for speaking the truth,
impressions that seem to seek superficial retention,
an orientation that will pride itself on sidedness,
verbalization that will eventually substitute for presence.
every human comes into this world:
with feelings that will remain unsharable,
the curse of unshakable as self traits,
a sense of love that gets dissected into uneven parts,
the discovery of oneself as the story to unfold,
familiarity as the self disease of circumstance,
the sheer beauty from the cutting edge of the unknown,
the unnatural needs for emphasis converted into speech,
with existing as relational as a substitute for actually
being,
doing knowing as a way of coping,
wanting simplicity of play as a form of self expression,
expected to realize a god that is out there,
likely to chase an external joy that originally lives
within,
required to face a reality that exists as its own conundrum.
every human comes into this world:
driven to thrive on being separate but interested
activating fear on their internal motherboard to survive,
vaguely drawn but not directly or obviously intended,
seeking more consciousness but self-consciously distracted,
as if this is a new beginning but not
for there are old souls in new slippers
yet eager for the stroll . . .
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