i like ike

why was the interstate system such a goddamned

(honestly, make it go away)

big deal?

i pondered and contrived on one hell of letdown sunday morning

i was more upset about the inherently unpoetic,

save for a epic, rare voice,

than what mattered.

at least what you want me to think should matter to me that doesn't matter to you.

then nothing,

but remember, many have lived at the racetrack

was that letdown just a little fresher in my mind?

i can't get it out of my head,

no no,

no no.

love escaped me again,

longer ago than it had been since

i mysteriously retained hope,

prosaically tried to convince, while bragging to, the stereotypically uneducated masses

that which used to be almost god and turned into those who thought they were

became

audibly inescapable--

for a short time.

after pausing to be inconvenienced

and to passively voice my nausea

(-ting infatuation with the adverb),

i couldn't -- couldn't afford to,

let anything die.

no matter my nicely wrapped hate,

i still quasi-needed,

despite my constant objections,

to life-support IV-drip the written word.

refusing a digression, however,

and giving in to a fatty temptation,

i whispered to worlds beyond,

where our great goal is guarded,

the secret to disconsolation.