humans can’t by definition.

how does a dog aspire to be more?

how does the ant care for the floor?

better than human,

“..insect overlords?.”

let them bee,

they’re good for you and me.

without the flowering

there is no fruit.

no grain, no booze,

“..no wine!.”

“..let’s destroy the empires..”

“..but keep hold of their loot..”

“..it’s for the national good!.”

that’s fascism by theft,

do we understand this yet?

we have done this to our people,

the human people,

the one that aspires to be better.

better from what,

“..the disease of the snot..”

the delusions we feed on,

the one’s we crave,

never forgetting the desires and depraves.

the hatred, the grief,

the resolution of what’s underneath?

we want to be happy,

not just a few times,

we all know the rhymes,

all poems of beauty are the same,

whether in structure,

great portent,

or rhyme,

sometimes.

it’s always about love,

the passions,

the insane.

what does this make us?

the people versus the criminals,

the old deceptions that drive us insane,

our world shows us,

“..rising sun of ourselves..”

all empty like space,

without measurement or form,

all things super-positioned,

all qualities dissolved.

not empty like a pot,

“..stupid old twot..”

{..empty like your mum’s eyes..}

{..you’re your mum, say the spies..}

have I spoiled the musings,

the pomposity of false profits,

oil, gas and electric,

“..don’t start, we’ll get cancelled, again..”

“..nice fascists, cancelling the nice people..”

{..cancelling is one hell of a steeple!.}

don’t matter who’s doing it,

it’s just not worth this shite.

“..hey, control that might..”

where are the stairs,

the ones that take us up there?

When I die and they lay me to rest,
I’m gonna go to the place that’s the best

Spirit In The Sky, Norman Greenbaum, 1969

or maybe not.

I leave us to just think about that.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

how do we surpass human comprehension