Archive for the ‘Life (Pending)’ Category

St Nikolai ROC, Eklutna, Alaska

Life after death?

One can hope!

Considering life after birth sucks so much

(people and society),

relief would be nice,

in a kinder, gentler reality.

Indeed, nice.

Am I repeating myself?

Yes, one can hope.








If only people would be quiet,

shut up and listen,

they’d soon realize

(if only they’d try!),

I have something (way!)

more interesting to articulate,

than the banalities

they repeat,

day after day.




Ah, yes, the

neverending legitimacy and wannabe

pissing match.


we all think we’re special

and we assert our interests,

trashing others’,

with hateful lies and destruction,

cloaked in bogus justification,

because we’re older or younger,

more this or that,

and deserve greater than the human next door.

The man beats his chests like an ape,

standing proud,

while up above aliens look down

and see

a small man with wet pants

and urine down his leg.




Last night, this morning,

the dream,

it made you excited,

it gave you hope and sustenance,

it made you smile.

And now, after a day full of wakefulness,

other people, dross,

you feel drained,

yes, ready to sleep

but, hurting,

too tired to dream.

Afraid, indeed, to dream:

knowing that tomorrow

reality will slap your face once more,


a dream,

it seems,

is the best you can hope for.




So, you’ve achieved the wet dream your parents instilled in you,

well done, big man,

you’re a manager now.

A controller, manipulator, facilitator,

a façade of power.

Above all, you’re a despicable exploiter.

Still, you’re a manager,

you have an expensive car

and your parents are proud.

It doesn’t matter what you manage,

that’s an inconsequential detail,

you have no real interests or passions,

just power and prestige.

You have your own office,

you can shut the door,

you have a desk,

behind which

you can masturbate

until the cows come home.

Big man.



True trash.

Managerial class,

head up ass.

Gets paid a fortune and

leaves the world a worse place.




No one asks me how I (really) am,

not in a way that I can truly answer.

Alone in a forest of trees,

gradually the ground subsides,

one by one we topple,





Ten already?

But it only just stopped being nine!

Dead already?

Barely alive!




Fat Man


So cute,

so round and yellow,

bright and inviting,

a toy that begs you to play with it,

that brings out the child in every adult

(and the adult in every child).

If you think about it,

a masterpiece of science and wonder,

death, destruction and power.


imagining the possibilities,

fat men touch themselves…

In the quiet moment after release they lament:

Yesterday’s gone,

blown away,

like a 1945

Summer breeze.




It was quite proper and appropriate

that Mikhail Sergeyevich’s cup was unfilled.


it’s unfortunate

no one denied Boris Nikolayevich

and family


(who made sure


remained unfulfilled…)







Existential pain.

You think too much,


looking for the best way,

trying to do the right thing.

And now you’re excluded…

With no choice but to

swim against the current,



tread water in perpetuity,

a kind of purgatory,

how long can it last?

How long can you last?

Like water disappearing down a drain,

you are depleted,



And eventually,

totally exhausted, you sink,


starved, you die.


the ocean has no grain.