Thursday, July 28, 2011

Life Outside the Matrix... A Comedic Tragedy

For the purposes of this poem
The Matrix (may-tricks), noun; is defined as…

-A place on this earth, where people enjoy the whimsy and simplicity of living with short or non-existent memories of unpleasant or inconvenient truths

This is about the misfortune of living just outside of the Matrix
Where I live.
‘bout half mile from the McDonald’s…. Any McDonald’s

Close enough to know many people that live inside
But far enough to know I can’t live inside myself

Outside feels like the kinda place
Where the raw sewage that they aren’t supposed to dump into the river would flow

It’s desolate, quiet.
More muted than naturally quiet

It rains a lot, but few things grow
There are no children here. Or there shouldn’t be

It gets cold it gets hot
Rarely is it just right

We can only enter the Matrix with our masks on
No one inside wants to be reminded of outside.
Our own little District 9

Those of us who live outside wouldn’t have it any other way
Despite how much we bitch and complain

Somehow we still feel more fortunate
Like an exclusive crew of hapless misfits
In our place, our position
Outside the Matrix

We are now renting space with the option to buy

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