Everything falls apart
when it’s someone else’s story.
Your guides are misfits.
They are the dead.
Those who pretend to lead
are pompous & paralyzed.
Their words form tight circles
& a poison that saps your life-blood.
A collage of cliché & borrowed expression.
These people. These damned people.
Smug delusions of self-appointed authority.
The cachet of projected death.
All must suffer & be silent.
All must bend & bow.
They take away your experience
& tell you how to feel.
It is wrong to possess.
There is foul dust here.
The river has moved downstream.
A beautiful lucidity.
Everything falls apart
when it’s someone else’s story.