Marbles grind against the darkness
scatter, collide while cells divide
our work is drinking water now
cracked bulbs and candle wax
tumble, tumble, tumble went
the rock box, how it shown
diamond femurs spewed
moved the microscope heart
watching, watching, watching
the old red eye waiting for us all
the mourning star, long dark, cold
infrared souls kaleidoscope in space.

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Vote

I can’t wrap my head around people who won’t vote. Right now, various officials of our government are plotting on the best way to keep Americans from the ballot box. Countless men and women of all races gave their lives so we could vote. The vote is the revolution. It’s beyond imagination that anyone say they don’t vote in a nation so thoroughly, grossly, controlled by unchecked corporate power. We’re dominated by an economy built to keep the majority poor, tired, and sick. So, please, if you’re a citizen that’s not dying, oppressed, or in solitary confinement—get the fuck out and vote.

A lifeboat drifts, lost
lonely, determined to
face the sky, damned
defenseless, rotting under
the life above, hopeful
hellbent, wandering with
the home-bound whale, darkness
drizzling, roller coaster
water’s hard hands, clap
collapse, cold silence
fills the lungs, bubbles
breath, kissing stars.

Practical Morality

Being alive doesn’t imply living, atoms dance but not to music. “Baby Theresa” is the philosopher’s go to on this issue. Born with anencephaly, a terrible disease that results in enough brain tissue to keep the heart pumping for about week before it dies. It’s typically caught early and the baby’s aborted.

We do have special brains but they’re not as unique as the passages of antiquity would have us believe. Many creatures recognize themselves, paint, plan, feel, fuck for fun, and mourn their dead. Does a dining Dolphin ponder itself as a future entrée to a bigger fish? Perhaps, but I really don’t know.

But we resist this too, knowing we’ll most likely end up tossing through another night, and waking to the same awful alarm. Each day we learn (or we don’t) how to live with ourselves, our friends, lovers, assholes, idiots, and psychopaths. And we have to make the most of everyone’s lives to maximize our own.

God and the Absurd

The absurd calls to question the moral authority of God. I have a friend, whose father has lived and honorable quiet life as a book selling pastor. How did God repay him? Dementia. And we’re forced to think, I’d never do that to a person, why would God? And if you’re thinking that then it’s time to consider whether God gives us morals, or if we define Him by ours.

Organic Morality

I don’t know anybody who thinks that they are not moral or good. But what does that mean? Is it the piety found in religion? Is it giving to the poor? Eating Vegan? How can a person read, “love thy neighbor as thyself” and continue to partake in the same bloodshed and tragedy that’s persisted throughout history?

Do bacteria count as life? Are chemicals alive? An atom? Does the cell suffer when it splits? Must it have a brain? Jellyfish don’t, but I consider them a living thing. If everything is energy, then it’s active, and if that’s true then everything is alive in a way. This is much easier to accept than the opposing argument: that we and all else are lifeless bio-cogs in a Petri dish.

This is a fallacy, though, perhaps only a few things are really living, in that case, the Christians have it right that we are held accountable, but it’s to death, not God. Life is then precious for the sake living and nothing else. Morals then come from the necessity to live.

Money and Monsters

Corporations vacuum capital up from a vast multinational carpet, the fibers of which are you and me, and concentrate it just under the all seeing eye, where it’s portioned by, and to, those deemed most vital.

Every time the money makes it back to the top little chunks siphon into private accounts while ours is constantly squeezed like a lime into the oligarchy’s cocktail.

Worry not, the money isn’t going to waste. Selling lies is costly, and what isn’t used for deceiving the unaware goes to constructing more low-wage work boxes, where people can sign up for government aid.

You’d be horrified if you woke up one day in a society that made you fight for water, grain, or internet access, but applying a price to those things and pitting us against each other for more money isn’t any different.

You’re told to work longer, harder. You’re told to strive for a  management position where the system carefully weeds out anything other than mediocre tall blonds. And if you can’t live up, you’re simply not working hard enough—you haven’t earned it.

But really, they don’t want to give it. They don’t believe we’re worth anything more than a basic, meager, dull existence because we’re poor, not because we don’t work hard. And they want us to fight for every crumb of bread. They want us to fear everyone because they’re coming for our jobs.

They’re going to take our paychecks, they tell us. Typical. The corporations we work for are stealing our money, not black people, not immigrants, refugees or Muslims. Criminality is the heart of creative capitalism. Not only for those who must thieve to survive, but also the board members who vote to steal labor by constantly short-changing workers into incarceration.

There’s plenty for the employee, the entrepreneur, the disabled, retired, intern, single mother—everybody—but Capitalism isn’t about diversifying wealth and power.