Asinine

-Asinine-
by
Keaton Foster

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Asinine
One and the same
Opposable digits
Consequential widgets
All meant to fill a hole
Complete some task
Unknown
Do what was meant
Even if no explanation is given
Blind ridiculousness
Serves many so well
Such important roles
Created by a God
Often controlled
By the devil below
By definition
This is a heathen speaking
Will I be doomed by such words
Who the fuck really knows
More importantly
Who the fuck cares
Certainly not me
Then again
I am sure that I
Am nothing like those
Standing in rows
Waiting to be told
Expecting to be shown
Asinine
Fools relying on rules
Begging to be directed
Praying for scope
Not wanting to be
Made out to be dopes
All of us are held
Under the same thumb
Mired within death
While we are alive
The closer we get
The greater the mess
Preposterous monuments
Built in our own ideal image
Breaking every commandment
Diluting all understanding
Overflowing heads
Saturated brains
Buckets of shame
Standing in lines
Pointing wild
He did it
No she did it
It was not me
It was not you
Really then who
Explanation
Increasingly not needed
Forgiveness often receded
Both God and the devil
Have had enough
Lost to the world
Misplaced to ourselves
Standing is freakish poses
Indistinguishable soldiers
Fighting a battle
While waging war
Against who exactly
Our own damn selves
We alone
Will be our demise
We alone
Will decimate the ranks
Polluting this world
With dead or dying souls
Fragile beings
Living outside of faith
Such an inability to believe
In something greater than ourselves
Will be impossible to overcome
At that point
Salvation will become
As pointless of those seeking it
At that point there will be no return
This poem may be a circle of words
A trip down a deep well
A reach into a darkening soul
Or this poem might be absolute
Unwavering truth based on facts
That cannot be rescinded
Argued or ignored
Asinine
A fitting descriptive
For the legions of lemmings
Standing around waiting
Copying each other
Increasingly indistinguishable
Hypocritical masterpieces
Looking for what is theirs
Needing a form of control
But unwilling to let go
Of the idea that all of this
Was created for us
When in fact this place
And everything within it
Is simply a side-effect of a situation
Possibly
Undoubtedly
Most definitely
Everything is and will always be
Beyond all human comprehension…


Asinine
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013