By: Michael Guynn
I want to know
When we are driving towards a thing,
Are we driving towards it or are
We
Pulled to the idea?
I want to know
When we want to have a thing,
Do we need a thing or does
It
represent a piece of us
Unexplored?
I want to know
When we buy a car,
Do we want a car or do
We
Hope it helps us float as if upon a cushion of air above the cracked and human earth
On which
Endless suburbs stretch like labyrinths for rats
In which
We are reminded of the maddening possibility that we will be trapped like failed test subjects Within
Its white-picket and blood-colored brick walls forever
Until
Our minds transcend their mundane usefulness
So
The bored scientist can grimace one last time at our swollen grayness before flinging us
Between
Pinched plastic fingers into a rusty black trashcan labeled in faded yellow “biological waste”
Where
We gasp, flailing deeper into our gnawing consciousness
Until
There are only bits of muted cartilage and calcium to stink forever and ever and ever
No more...
And when we moan, weeping upon caskets laid bare
Are we mourning for the death of a
Human
Or do we cry
Because It was them
And not us who has
Moved
On.
Michael Guynn is a sophomore at Dixie State University studying Psychology. In his free time he plays guitar, makes custom skate art, writes poetry, and spends plenty of time in the great outdoors skiing, hiking, and traveling. He hopes to someday use his art and poetry to inspire those who need help and advice.
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