Transcend state (a poem)

Monday, October 6, 2025

Transcend state.
The form, the composition, the system, the X-Wing, Skywalker, regardless of my name.

Trying to stamp over the symbols—
the hijack, the flag and whip,
the crack, the constellations ancient.
We turn them into Looney Tunes,
our favorite story,
bend the world to feel me.

The docs, the terms, the structure, the world—
can’t handle the extra.
The more, the fringe.
The anomaly—
we say no, strain out the mutants,
put the deviants in jail,
or disappear them—
it’s cheaper.

Lagging.
Lumbering.
The big guy down the existential halls,
playing the land, my cards.
You don’t know how to play—
let me help.
Oh, I’m sorry,
I took all your money.

Transcend the altered state.
Carbon.
Rebirth.
What are we?
What’s the story?
Tell me.
Hey institution,
hey sacred costume wearers,
hey shiny star,
hey—the process is sacred no more.
He ruined it.
Worked today,
tomorrow changed.

What are you?
Realize—more than the script.
More than the little groups they define.
In or out,
for us or against,
we can’t support any variance.

You have your orders.
I’ve been painted.
Come after me—
a soul turned target.

The influence.
The levers,
the carrots and sticks,
the big bad man
telling me what I should believe.

I want freedom,
respect—
how did my deviance
become a threat to you?

Control.
Iron out this wrinkle.
Erase the hearts
that don’t pass the smell test.
But the sniffer has select ideas—
too bad for them.

Blotted.
Dropped.
Cuffed.
Removed
after a decade of applause.