Kairosclerosis ✔ [poetry]

pulp

21

PULP

⸻

we'll never comprehend the loneliness of our existence,

The singularity of our rage against the dying light,

until the tail light in front of us

suddenly vanishes into the night.

and then it's just

us,

the road.

foot on the gas pedal,

eyes on the road,

hands on the steering wheel,

going toward

the end of the world,

the edge of the earth,

the horizon seams of the cityscape

where civilization unravels apart, revealing:

barebone badlands,

And deserted fields,

stretching on into oblivion.

we'll never comprehend others can destroy themselves,

destroy others,

until a hundred miles per hour on an endless lane

is no longer the speed

of our particles vibrating forward.

but bitter, burnt rubber wheels

screeching in the crisp winter night sky;

radio crackling like the hiss of wild animals

dashing in the inky shadow;

rhythm of our pulses catching in our eardrums;

hysterical giggles lodging in our throats;

and wonderful, colourful death

crawling down our spine.

The epiphany of our solitary unleashes in

an abrupt, foreign need,

a desperate, instinctive craving.

to hear the explosion of gasoline and flesh,

to feel the solid crunch of bones and metal,

to smell our blood,

overflowing into a pool of hot engine fluid.

to be faster, stronger, wilder

than a needle pushing over two hundreds,

than a dust cloud dissipating into the night sky.

To be greater, lesser or equal to

dull thuds slamming against our windshield,

mangled cadavers flattened under our wheels.

in this haunting silence of the universe's pocket

where the illusion tears

and stretches at its frayed, worn corners,

where nothing is bigger

or smaller

or equal to each other.

we are similarly

tiny

as the rest of the stars,

millions of lightyears away,

insignificant

as the remains of roadkills,

mowed and crippled throughout the night,

we want to disrupt this empty space that swallows

the maddening hums of our heartbeats

throbbing at the back of our skulls,

crazed trembles of our knuckles on the steering wheel,

thrill of life clamped behind our clenched teeth.

we want to

go past the end of the world,

past the edge of the earth,

into the unknown void.