there are these little gnats flying around my place, every where i look i see them

at least i think i do, sometimes i sit here and wonder if they are little wisps of dying dreams struggling to catch my eye and remind me there is more to… this

i set out cups of vinegar covered with cling wrap with tiny holes as the internet prescribes, they are attracted to the scent and crawl in and then cannot get back out

this makes me think this is how dreams die, they worm into your brain and flit about, and if not acted upon they die and float in the brine of the brain pan

now i have a conundrum, if they are dream wisps i need to keep them alive, if they are gnats they must die, but if a difference cannot be found i will kill off the best parts of my subconscious and never fulfill this empty shell

there is a reason you need training to be an exterminator, go through classes and learn to pick your poison

an insect assassin on a mission from god, sent to take away the wishes and wants and discarded, ignored or generally unimportant prayers

sent to terminate, eviscerate, commiserate, over compensate, satiate, regulate and disintegrate these flying little misfires from the essence of cosmic indifference

maybe they are angels, devils, monsters, mythos come to life and relegated to subservience until they complete one task

everytime you get a call from a telemarketer an angel loses it’s wings and other sundry things

scratch this, these gnats serve a purpose, a higher porpoise, a bleached whale, the elephant in the tomb, a bull in a chinese top

go toro, it’s your birthday, got a nose ring cause it’s your birthday

this has diverged, submerged, and lost the urge to right the wrongs of a bitter battle to the deaf

that doesn’t sound

i am surrounded by cups of vinegar and plastic wrap and little dying dreams

little lying schemes

gently sighing screams

the fumes and funeral progressions, progressives, protesters, protestants and non-believers, prayer cards and pragmatic poignant placards

postcards to younger me about how to kill a dream

gnaturally agnostic needles under the fingernails desperately clawing, manicured pedicured and proactively tossed down a flight of scares

little vinegar death cups and the fading dreams or yesteryear

an anthem