An Anthropology on Something or Nothing

We move forward at a crawl
loving ourselves and hating the things we say
and we feel

The turtle in our world does not beat the hare
In here, they devour each other
They satisfy their hungers.

Athena is not our mother goddess.
She does neither our spinning
nor our fighting, nor our teaching.
In here, Arachne is a waxing goddess
in a wicker spider
set on fire.

In here, fascist physicality
tups Marxist morality
We kill off every fucking Darwinian
and everyone eats
everyone fights
everyone wins
everyone dies.

But we can't seem to stop living

You see,
we are always in bed
but no one can seem to find any time
to sleep.
When no one can sleep
no one can dream.

So we stay awake
and our lives become
what our dreams are made on.

And we lay back down and try to imagine
what we will be after this sleep of death.

And we find that what we see
can't be imagined.