Glister
Plunked Daintree Rainforest. Coordinates
likely dead center. Horrified, I’d been caught.
Green blazed menacingly, noise beyond roar.
Sun a veritable flamethrower. My supplies were
lean. Rope, protein, couple vegetables, modicum
potable water. Two others played, my squad, no
clue which direction, or directions. I swore I would
find them, prayed they had linked, sorted some
shelter. I failed alone. Spent that night exposed.
Nonfictional nightmares showed my compeers
colorless, hollow. Tracks entered, attacked, split.
I saw vile aftermath. Pack hunters unknown, yet,
categorical threat. Now I’m wide awake. My own
shoulders beneath my feet. I will not be painted
over. I’ll beat this.
Kafkaesque, Ari Aster dread. An American
fried close maniacal. I hate fluorescent lights.
Five-story office building draining starving class.
Cubicle like I’m being waterboarded. Thoughts
smudge, cheapest ballpoint pen. CEO is a ghoul.
That was always quite likely. Anger, boredom,
pecuniary woes. We’re treated like drones. Our
batteries are third-rate. Ladleful coins come,
white-hot, we can’t touch them. People experience
rage, folded, folded, folded. I worry some are
fantasizing / planning arson. Stooges patrol, I’m
typing this document when they aren’t looking.
Hello me, hold your dreams. Steamroller bruiser
component. Heal whenever you’re able. Reach,
protect who you can.