Bricks and Mortar
Disillusioned with authority
Authority. Intimidation with the urge to control.
Do what I say.
You are small.
You will stay under me indefinitely.
We gather these notions and characteristics as we get older.
Maturity suddenly becomes defined by our ability to make others feel small. Smaller. Etc.
Talk down. Talk down. Talk down further. Talk someone down. Talk you down, out of your dreams and your money, out of everything you desire.
For the sake of my own foundation.
Money which is static, fundamental block of question mark land, of how to have.
How shall I have this money? Shall I have it here? There? Or Somewhere else?
How shall I have more money? How shall I have it?
This is the American way. To have one’s money in a certain way.
Spending? Spending is anger. Having is fundamental.
Do what I say, with the emptiness, to have what I wish to have a certain way, to stay in an empty shell, hollow
From the outside in, Eggshells hollowed out with hollow direction.
Point this way, go this where, do do do, so I can continue to do do do, and
This is the way.
Do. Live. Life. Go. Every day a hollow walk to the car, a bite for lunch,
Someone in a cubicle over there is silent no more
You shall never see, the darkness shall override, the hollow black night inside the shell of white light.
This chugging along, business as usual, empty sullen sad sorry sack of cold potatoes you hand me
Over the shoulder, walk 15 miles back home for supper.
I stop to look at the flowers, and remember that the grass is greener on the other side.
Cold, wet, miserable
But free. Free from the sorrow holler hell hollow.
Bricks and mortar got nothing on me.