Dimensions(Poem)

What’s in fate?
you ask and ask
and ask
hoping to find
in all the tasks
you do
from dawn to dusk.

Babas and the god-men
say to be in
mannequin-silence.

and somehow, let go
of this worrying DNA.

Spiritual hippies
with their cavities
chant OMs
like the cereal commercial
or the annoying crypto ads.

All
we are told
ostensibly
give new eyewear
to see the hidden-Fungi realities
in this “Truman Show.”

Spine at the right angle
with all 8 cranium bones lit
I just feel sleepy
and sorry.



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