mastodon playing in my functional ear as i sit in the drizzle watching people watch me watch them

foot tapping to the beat

phone in my hand, thumbs tapping along with the wailing guitars

they wander

lost in their own daydream as i daydream new lives for them

moments like this

i think of the world as an ant colony

busy little things making new tunnels in the dirt for my amusement

i want to pick it up and shake it violently

scatter the hive mind

just to sit and see what new paths they make, new directions, new worlds they create only to slowly destroy again

colony of the birchmen on repeat

the world convalesces into the rhythm

if i clap my hands will they scatter

let loose a primal scream to terrify the innocent masses

no

i will write and sketch and wonder as the rain falls

switch to thelonious monk or maybe dam-funk

lost in the face burnt in my mind while watching the faceless masses scurry about whatever mission that is of the utmost importance in their lives

if you could see things the way i see them, would you sit and watch or vomit on the wet concrete

i wonder as blue bolivian blues comes on and slowly monk’s dream saturates my own