Modern Self-Esteem

there’s a need

to prove

I’m not

a robot,

but somehow

I always get

the captcha wrong.

this is the way

of things:

humanity proving itself

to an artificial

system.

this is our

search for

truth,

cxW7a

what does an

upper-case

X

look like?

I guess

we’re not

secure enough

to know.

TEXAS

sleeping

in my truck

off the side of some dirt road

I see a head-lamp

and legs going

out my window

and the head-lamp

moved to a car parked closely

behind me.

I couldn’t understand it

but didn’t care enough

to get out of bed.

in the morning

I got coffee going

on my tailgate

and looked at the

license-plate of the car.

it said:

TEXAS

and somehow that

made sense.

eventually,

the guy got out

of the car

and started packing up

all the gear

he had put out.

then he drove off.

I thought

well,

it’s 7:30am

and I’ll never understand

my own species

but

at least they

are getting

the message

about me.

Speed

I guess

I’m just

impatient

about everything.

the old lady driving.

the day of the week.

the bottom of my

coffee cup.

I’ve got this fast machine

with a gas pedal

and another machine

to give instant answers

and between the two

there’s this sorry mind

which can’t decide

if it is passing

or being passed.

so little tempers

crawl me like ants

and there’s another

line

for the register.

somehow fast

is never fast enough

when it’s all

going nowhere.

melancholy U-turns

afternoon uncertainty

piles up in a chair

with two hands

and a mouth

waiting for beer.

the sun is up high

and barrels down heat

outside

while the birds dance

in happy sobriety.

but

there’s still a

river of shit

under million-dollar houses.

the kids spill

their ice cream.

the housewife complains

into the phone.

that’s about the sound

and look of it:

me,

and the chair

at 3:30

in the afternoon.