electric eels
aren’t eels at all
they are closer
to catfish
and they breathe
gulps of air
just like us

they hunt in packs
and if you weren’t such
a blatant specieist
you’d realize there
are three distinct types

the more i learn
the less i find
i ever truly knew
and i wonder just
how much of this
amazing world is
erased every minute

humanity is just
a destructive blip
in a long history of
cataclysmic blips
surrounded by wonder
they are too solipsistic
to ever acknowledge

the only chance
we have as a species
of contributing to
the universe in general
is as a cautionary tale

sometimes i can’t tell
if it is the bipolar
the incessant nihilism
or being a fucking poet
which lend this aura
of cynical asshole
it’s most likely just
my glowing personality

probably for the best
i don’t have the ability
to generate voltage
more than the errant
arcs in my cavernous skull
or i’d assuredly find myself
accepting more invites
to various pool parties