Poem-A-Day: Day 32

Cannibal Junction

I’ve been slap-happy silly
one too many times
to think about the consequences
that built up to my arrival.
I am, in a sense best befitting Jesus,
the king of kings of the nonexistent.
My entrance is more grandiose
than my egression,
yet far less noticeable upon repeat viewings.

They tell me,
“It’s just a phase you’re going through.”

But I haven’t been fazed
since Total Recall.
I recall everything in small doses,
jumbled up,
and shit back out on pages
sacrosanct in my vision;
the blind visionary
calling out to deaf crowds.

“Don’t cross the street,
there are cannibals on the other side.”