Posted on

Voodoo of the Meats.

Ode to my body,
with whom I rarely
see things eye-to-eye.

Some will never
understand the mind-body problem
in the abstract,
yet between us, its so clear,
close-up and personal:

fucking everyday. 

Being of the dualistic persuasion
with respect
to the philosophy of the mind
is not a position
adopted by choice,

be it frivolous
in nature or a raw 
reaction out of fear,

but rather forged
through the violent
hungry fires
of relentless,
unceasing experience.

You are not me.
You happen to me.
I am the ghost,
you are the meat machine.

All your needs,
instincts, cultural conditioning:

all your trickery.

I am wound
in your web of wires,
seduced by the vehicle.

I have clearly succumb
to the corporeal coercion
of consciousness.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s