(triggers for the three people who might read this: nsfw but might be my saving grace and yours, too?)
Fail, All Hail!
All I see
through the filter
of my own failure
is your failure.
Which isn’t to say
that you
failed, too.
Yet all I see is
survivorship
bias.
Everywhere.
The history
of evolution
is
about the screaming blood
of failure,
without recovery,
genes lost forever
to the pool,
just as much
as it is about success,
that smarmy
chimp
in the corner
throwing faery dust
on the rest of us.
I look on my shirt
I don’t see faery dust.
I see
shit
and blood.
Mine,
yours,
ours,
all the way down.
That’s all
I see.
What I feel
is another
thing entirely.
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At least we’re collaborators …
Kevin
Permalink //
Thanks sweet Jebuz. I hate to say it for fear of being seen as some anarcho-masochist, but that poem made me feel better for having written it. I hope it wasn’t too depressing.