Psycho-Hexameter

by Shaun Grub

                                                     art by Greg Davis

The joke of history is it isn't a mystery
 to the ones who don't wanna know
It's just a string of perversions undergoing reversions
 with hot pockets in the snow
When things are at their worst it starts improving
 but the only real way to tell
You could be feeling better and getting sicker
 while freezing intermittent in hell
It's paradisiacal and quite maniacal
 the revelations heating up in your head
After cooling down a bit you think you're full of it
 and don't wanna get out of bed
There ain't no one to blame ya just trying to frame you
 for something that you never did
Demanding to convince everyone you exist
 is just a workout like a statistical spread
Trick is never forgetting to remember
 that we aren't even actually here
Its because we're moving and constantly grooving
 while our proximity disappears
With the whole damn planet a-plunging onward
 through the cold and sterile void
We're just under-sampling and aliasing forward
 in a wagon wheel effect conjoined
In meditation we reach equilibrium to relish
 stillness which we usually reject
The fact remains its not an illusion
 just a mirror of the void we reflect
In trying to use tact to avoid confusion
 nothing remains the anchor to our lives
We're sailing onward redressing grievance
 and selling our souls down the line
So how's it possible we can even conceive
 that we're usually just feeling fine
In a war torn nation caught up in cold fury
 with provocations from both sides
You don't need a judge or even a jury
 if you're quick enough on this ride
In paroxysms of executions compounded
 with a series of nervous tics
That's not religious order nor spiritual chaos
 or a random case of Tourettes
Just a sexual disease twitching from spirochetes
 and that could be as good as it gets
If God created the missionary position
 we came up with dancing in the streets
Its odd we're mated with nuclear fusion
 and always doing what we're told
When the whole damn point of being created
 is just a chance at growing old
Look at this joint do you think we're fated
 with a predetermined destiny
Well it depends on just how serious
 you're taking your own individuality
That's why I sing get down with me brothers and sisters
 and don't you fret no more
Flip that frown in the air and if it comes down heads
 don't let your tail get caught in the door