
when the materialist seeks spirit
they may investigate the world
rather than their self
and remain imprisoned in world
of the quantified
extolling pages read and minutes listened
ever missing moment
all that is slips from our hands
intent to frame a view confines us
velocity pushes us along
a gauche wildland safari
within a vehicle removed
carrying a world of expectation
with opaque boundaries
like the sky’s blue shell in daytime
all that we can see is a reflection
of the prison of persona
a crafted package expertly designed
fitting fantasy, romantic consumer
descends into the transcendental
as a bucket to a well for profit
never seeing but transacting
never feeling, only acting out a role
an image for the wall of status
never there, but always striving
ever driving on our rails
to destination, never arriving
we give lip service to the journey
driving blindly to a viewpoint
that we only look at through a camera
and only think about as status
guided to memetic lighthouse
through a dark, expansive gulf,
all of life undifferentiated
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