A Conversation in the Time of Galamatias

Our salad days are filled with bitter herbs and intractable roots—
Not so much a salad, but a melange
Of weeds and thistles—
Indelicate things in our mouths.
Every bite a mouthful of rot and offal—
Awful offal.
The kakistocracy is installed in the cupboards
The cups are off on a two week vacation in Marienbad.
We are mystified and malnourished.
Now I’ve had my wine…
And you look better than you did twenty minutes ago.
And you say:
The sky is a massive hole tonight—
My precious lucida is eating the universe:
Inside-out.
I can lay down and go to sleep.
The lights are receding
And the darkness is strangely pleasing.

What I’m Reading:

“History is something that very few people have been doing while everyone else was plowing fields and carrying water buckets.”

— Yuval Noah Harari / Sapiens