Dum Pukht: Mirepoix

Written by Jason Aaron Sutterfield

Started writing on: Tuesday, April 11, 2017 at 11:54AM

Ended: Tuesday, April 11, 2017 at 12:40PM

 

Am I natural or just high art?

Are all my cells born from dying stars?

Are there nebulas pouring from my eyes?

Is my mind my own little universe?

Is this reality I experience just an illusion?




As I float on my cloud nine,

You feed me the line,

“You must bend your knees and receive our king”,

Laughing I reply,

“No thanks honey, I won’t submit for someone’s else’ jolly’s.”




Locked away left to check in,

I do my best to check out,

Only giving a damn to those who matter,

I breathe in the cooked misery,

And like a fine wine it is so tasty.




Am I natural or just high art?

Are all my cells born from dying stars?

Are there nebulas pouring from my eyes?

Is my mind my own little universe?

Is this reality I experience just an illusion?




As I resist your questioning,

You fail to see,

Having nothing to talk about is sometimes a good thing,

Sometimes it’s okay to not know what you’re feeling.

If I have a problem I will speak up and out without problem darling.




As I float on my cloud nine,

You feed me the line,

“Renounce your bedeviled thinking and come see the light,”

Bemused I reply,

“No thank you darling, I already have trouble seeing, I’ve no need to make myself blind.”
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