Life is a porno movie. We know what’s going to happen,
But we don’t care.
We understand the inevitable.
Surprise is rare.
Knowing love, the game, the vote, is rigged
Doesn’t bother us a bit.
We shrug, we laugh, we gawk.
What can we do about it?
The announcer sounds excited.
We get excited when we choose,
And the decision seems real—
Whether we win, or lose.
Mr. Bones says “life is boring,” and it is.
It’s boring because we know how it ends.
Look at the sunset and say “it’s great!”
Or you won’t have any friends.
Be patient, or become a patient.
Slowly, lift your hand, and place it here,
And murmur something low—
I don’t think I was able to hear it.
The poem is over. Time to go.