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Thus Spake Shikhar



Some environmentalists will tell you otherwise, 

but the world actually enjoys taking a 
heaping hot shit on us
(metaphysically speaking, of course)
but certainly the environment 
the sickly anesthetized coordinates
that each and everyone 
of us are locked in to 
Days come, and Nights go
and surely the fool with the banjo 
still plays. 
but it feels we are all marching
to someone else's rhythm. 
to where? 
I don't really know
or have any desire to know
the answer 
but one thing is for certain
this boat is drifting 
in a direction i am 
ashamed to call
progress. 

Our search for truth
prompted the sin
to end all sins
surely the universe breathed
a new breath 
as we pointed our missiles
into the air
and shot our old god
the fuck out of that sky 
and danced a joyous dance
in the pool of his blood
brave we were, 
but that was then...

Now, 
we suffer the depths
of nothingness,
and deathly touch
of nihilism
and everybody just
wants to get 
a little
fucked up

So when the world takes a 
shit, a heaping 
steaming shit on us
we arbitrarily search 
for a who?, a why?
begging our savior in the sky
for answers to questions 
who's only true answer
a mirror can reveal
we search for a scapegoat and a sin
more importantly 
a substance: 
white junk, green junk, brown junk or crystal junk
it's all the same
a means of escaping 
a world we're sure 
we despise 
but can we really blame 
ourselves? 
after all
we're only
"human, all too human" 

Humanity needs 
someone to justify 
it's existence. 
a creator of meaning 
and a destroyer of values
with skepticism and brute honesty
to fight the good fight

my thoughts?
who better 
than a
poet! 


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