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I would only believe in a god who could dance.

I would only believe in a god who could dance.

“I would only believe in a god who could dance. And when I saw my devil I found him serious, thorough, profound, and solemn: it was the spirit of gravity—through him all things fall. Not by wrath does one kill but by laughter. Come, let us kill the spirit of gravity!”
― Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

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there’s no clarity in symmetry

i smoke my cigarettes sober and stare

the homeless straight in their eyes
searching beseechingly
for something more than faith
 
living on fringes, becoming
marginalized, misanthropic
even chaos misunderstands
my composition
 
one day i get t-boned on a sidewalk
fate hands me answers on a silver platter
locks click into each other as perfectly
as that car which magically assembles its 20,000 parts
in the midst of a wind storm
 
hope beckons and i follow
but so do questions,
plane crashes,
trust funds, and
wounded buffaloes;

so does
ravensbruck,
las vegas,
and sandy hook
 
and absolutes taste bitter on my tongue
 
yes, the smoke i exhale is honest
but i can’t live in a world without entropy