THE IDYLLIC METH-POD (poem + image)

Wednesday, August 27, 2025

Disclaimer:
This piece is intended as parody elevated to a doomsday register.
The image and text are not meant to be morbid, but to shine a light
on how our systems can become disconnected, absurd, or blind
to the lived realities they intersect with.
It is offered more as invitation to discussion than as statement.

I. SITE PLAN

future site: Meth Pods™
issued for community optics only,
still the diagram hums
with its promise of climate-controlled ease,
app-based lighters,
government teeth.

II. THE FALSE MEADOW

idyllic, they whisper—
as if this dirt field
were a meadow,
as if porch swings could sprout
beside the graffiti wall (subscription spray cans),
as if the curled body on blueprint lines
were just resting,
not surviving.

III. FRAUD AS FRAME

the picture insists
on holding its frame:
a pastoral sketch laid
over collapse,
the fraud tender,
the fraud glowing.

IV. THE INHALATION

roll it up, light it—
a short idyll to inhale,
paint peeling,
lungs full of borrowed peace.

V. PRAYER IN STATIC

idyllic even now,
because the ache of wanting
outlives the evidence.

and we whisper a prayer,
god—
don’t let me explode today.