Profoundly mediocre,
Unsavory, disreputable,
Elevated to
Undeserved status by
Followers projecting
Their insecurities upon them,
Characterless swindlers
Preying on the defenseless,
Benefiting from misery.
Foreboding,
Sense of uncertainty,
Perceptible shift,
Condition worsening,
Memories of a time
When it wasn’t like this,
Taken for granted,
Unappreciated,
Now mourned.
They are all alike,
And she’s not,
Nor has she ever
Wanted to be,
A wave of ordinary sameness,
Each following
The same insipid song
Toward some distant cliff
Where they’ll all jump off,
Just because that’s
What everyone else does.
The tree’s branches
Have grown into another yard,
One where such things
Are not welcome and can only
Be dealt with in one way.
Plants must conform to
Strict standards of
Manageability,
Unobtrusiveness,
Acceptable stature.
Though the tree might be
A welcome spot of greenery
In another setting,
Spirited growth has no place here.
She says it again.
Silence.
Uncomfortable rustling.
All the things that
Haven’t been dealt with,
Exposed.
A moment of hope,
Something different,
Lost to fear.
Each day passes
More heavily than
The last,
Procrastination being
It’s own catalyst,
Discomfort increasing
Until unbearable.
He resolves to do
Something,
At some point.
Although she hadn’t expected it
To take up so much time,
It did, requiring her
To set aside things
Far more important.
She labored on,
Wondering how she might
Extricate herself from
This self-inflicted situation.
A small gesture
Feels so large
When one has been
Toiling away without
Perspective, the
Horizon being only
What is directly before
One’s eyes rather than
The splendid whole.
Thinking, behaving
In unison,
Each exactly as the other,
No variation,
Awash in uniformity,
Ignoring beauty,
Possibility.
