Day after Day
I replicate five times a day —
a touch for a touch,
as if you weren’t here.
Knowledge always culminates
in the ejaculation of boredom.
We prescribe repetition
as our own freedom —
our mantra of survival.
And death is the joy of elevation,
a happy face
as proof of the provocation
of cruel fun.
We prescribe repetition
without understanding
that the most insidious disease
is often the occupational one.
Day by day —
come what may.
THE COMBUSTION
Poetry Cycle by LDK
No. 6
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