Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

BRB, going to the galactic supermarket

I twisted and felt the colors screaming as they bled out
Of the burning cotton and on to the floor
I opened the door, walked out, and hopped into my car
Flipped on the radio, pushed up the volume and dropped
The bass of the music so that my brain could vibrate
Vroom – let’s get out of this place, my neurons ignited and traced the tunes and
Lovely little colors of fire into the face of the sky, sunburned
Let’s rummage around my memory box and reflect on things
I have learned as far back as 16 years ago, about biology
chemistry, physics, math, theatre, and dance
Somehow those scheduled seven classes a day created this chance
For me to drive around in a car, worried about work while
Lazily mumbling hollow, fortune-cookie lyrics in a boring melody
With popstars who distract us from giving a fuck
About astrology and mystical luck constructed
A “while” ago by wizards and unicorns and other things
As they looked at the stars from their tents and maybe
They had cars, too, who really knows
Who said time just walks forward, maybe it is a fungus that grows
Spreading out across a vast sea of some table of elements
That exists in tandem with our own, how do we know
We weren’t grown from that table and thrown into something else
Like a trash bin or one of those super big butcher freezers
To see if we could own up and preserve
Whatever is meant to be our creation and legacy,
in a reserved parking lot of outerspace
In row 6 next to the gardening section of a local cosmic supermarket

Poem from the Our Universe Is Dead Poetry Compilation by Brianna.

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