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Tennessee

de Pyrrhon

We find ourselves lost
In a maze of our own design
The signposts have all burned down
And we fade by the day

When the wind blows,
I shed dried-up morals
Like leaves in autumn
Or dead skin cells,
Desiccated by years of misuse,
And left to fill the guts of mites
And muffle spiders’ footfalls

Oh, that we could forget
And turn our eyes from the floodwaters
But even a liar like me
Knows that we must drown

Show me that the things that you value
Have value since you value them
We can feel meaningful
Because it means we have meaning

Let’s hoard grains of sand
And worship junk data
Let’s build a palace of static
And lose ourselves inside
Let’s march around and around and around again

All the debased logic
The spent, weathered values
And the ashes of intentions
Bear their witness against me

I can hear them every hour
I can hear them every day
Ten billion orphans
Screaming in the abyss

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