To comply and follow rules and directions written out on top of worksheet paper on top of schooldesk. Sharpened pencil. You wouldn’t dare get up and disrupt, unless of course you would dare. Comply like Borg cubes in a glass in outerspace. We all know the glass would shatter and nanoprobes would get out and not be rendered unconscious by lack of oxygen. I just want to stare it all in the face until it backs down. Resolutions like steel bricks in a safety deposit box. Dog Day Afternoon, films on-demand. Ricochet gumdrops off sugar windshields in some Gene Wilder, Willy Wonka-esque theme I keep coming back to. Calculator and pushing buttons that send signals in all directions. Ghost codes, encrypted keys in some Egyptian cryptex buried at the bottom of the pyramids. All good things crumble to dust in the end. All good cookies crumble to dust in the end. Maybe the world was spit out of God’s mouth. Little spitball planets rotating around and around. Grey and green tones, a dim outlook put upon the mindset like cages we cannot break out of. Dementors closing in entirely. That’s why it’s always important to keep Patronouses close to the vest. You never know when you’re going to need it in this world. Army soldiers march straight all in a line with matching uniforms and hats and the expressions on their faces –

Author: Roe

she/her. Songwriter & Trek Punk Soul™.

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