Memorandum

Not much to say to an empty room
But I just saw a man and also a woman
Shrivel to death instantly
After placing a small amount of sand
Into their mouth.
Sounds like a plot bunny

Their bodies blew in the beach wind
Away rolling up the hill and away
Over and grey, clothes tattered and frayed
Until a man came to say you must rest on packed earth
"Because it's hard!" he claimed as I poked my finger into it
Leaving a hole, and scooping up a chunk to show
Him how soft dirt really is, packed or not.

Was he another of the kind of nefarious creature
Whom abhors the taste of Earth in their mouth?
Another, whom dirt is poison Extreme! too potent to portend
Too real to be mitigated?
And what's up with his need to make me uncomfortable,
If I just magicked him up to keep me from being lonely

I've heard the calling Reason on the borders of this world
Whispering, "come back, you're too sensitive"
Whispering, "come back, these are your imagination"
Whispering, "come back, that is all in your head"
And I in my loneliness and humility have invented life Extrodinaire!
While some of the people I invented, hate me...
With long days spent undermining their priviledge to be here.

Forcing me to endure yet another day with people of my unchoosing
Though every therapist everywhere for all eternity will claim otherwise.
That I do have a choice! I have a choice...
It doesn't feel like it, just as one does not choose the family they're born into,
Or pick the genes one enters into lottery for.

But perhaps I live because it is one complicated environment
Hard and difficult for whatever seeks to devour me as food
With lots of hard to reach ideas and books within which to hide
And I in my fecundity, will outsmart the naysayers,
Like a crow, and enmasse...  To one day feed on them, whom eat on me.