2 Poems

the elder scrolls


the part in oblivion

where you go into the painting

and you have to fight the painted trolls

but you don't have enough turpentine arrows to defeat them

so you run up a hill

and try to cast fireballs at them

but their health regenerates too quickly

because the leveling up system is broken

and bethesda realized this and fixed it in skyrim

but you aren't playing skyrim

and now the trolls have murdered you

that's what it feels like not talking to you

cheat code


not feeling very motivated

not feeling very challenged by life

because i live in my childhood bedroom

this is life on easy mode

you can't get the best ending on easy mode

i don't care about endings or beginnings or the middle

mature people take coffee breaks at starbucks near their places of work while talking to other working people about work

they write short non emotional emails that refer to the contents of spreadsheets or other emails

they do this for forty to fifty years

i stare at a screen and wait for the internet to tell me what emotion to experience next

there is a gigantic hole in my mind that information technology plugs up

i try to imagine myself feeling worked up enough about life to scream silently in my head for three hours but i don't

i would flush this poem down the toilet but it’s on my macbook and that won't fit down the toilet even if i shatter it first

so instead i just stare at it and try to subtract any emotion­inducing lines or words out of it because aren't we past that stuff by now

imagine seagulls flying toward the sunset growing and expanding into Salvador Dali type creatures dripping liquid clocks over parked cars and pedestrians while humming chopin's nocturnes

would that be beautiful?

i don't know what is beautiful

this poem is an exegesis on continental philosophy and aesthetics

beautiful things disappear as you approach them

my computer is telling me not to get a job

i tell it ok

i feel better for a little while and then don't