I Don't Care

where are all the thinkers with their
wet-lipped eager minds? Standing on
mountain tops, feeding politicians
till they choke on the ink of the
age.

I prefer dementia now, to any idea of
sanity: the pigs are raised to be eaten and
no one is hungry anymore. No one is hungry
anymore and the roads are not paved
to last longer than it takes to decide
where we are even going - it is a melting,
fleeting place where the beast who persues us
will die long before his natural time. I don't care;
so will I.

-Love Marylin.