we carve lives
from the sweet, hard skin of the world

sacrifice innocence to St. Blake
we sow existence to reap experience

nature is our programmer
she’s built in planned obsolescence

we’re all in an action flick with a ticking clock
trying to solve a riddle while defusing a bomb

we want our pound of flesh and eat it too
but weep about the spiritual atherosclerosis

this calcification of the soul looks inevitable
the buildup of the loss and pain so unavoidable

circumstance hits relentless and hard, a prize fighter
we get punch drunk over years and things grow off-kilter

things seem destined to become ever more surreal
or is there a single point we can focus on in the spinning

keep your eyes on the center of th...

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