Sporadic Nomadic

Written by: Paul Knight-Kirby

Am i to live on the false euphoria of flammable vapour,
or the drizzly, damp bricks of passive conformity slammed into 
zoned territories, compacted amenities we are just 
grains of wobbling entities,
 separated by idealistic unities 
fighting over the daily hunger of luxury and sexual infinity, 
separated by old-fashioned personalities, clinging on to lost identity
watching movies, reading magazines  
scared to embrace daily sociability, individually afraid of independence and 
it's relentless social responsibility, really don't want to end up a product of 
corporate culture obsessed with intimacy and publicity, conservatory, TV, car, and photo memories, my life, 
desired some legacy,  some quest something more worthy or i will endeavor to have so, never bowing to the 'suppose so' wrought with 'i told you so' 
too many times told 'where to go' definitely feeling solo,
my voice heard in mono and slung out like a smuggled eastern-European slave in Soho, i am transparent in defeat
 trying to get this tie adjusted can't hide my face and hands from the maladjusted, mind all placid hiding the emotional custard i veil stomping miles along lonely trails, forever moving from situation to scenery, desolation, failure to some victory all witnesses conclude mystery, i call it man's misery a burden of history the anarchy the boredom of humanity so i will leave again and again my delusions of perfection to that  perfect home, the lush land of sand, beaches, music and waves to caress the imagination, and become one with whole, in that belated destination.