To a Lost Weekend

The plane is going down,

“HOWDY” is written across the left wing.

Probabilities of not being disturbed,

Increase and decrease at one in the same time.

Left Behind - those who didn’t go to Cambridge,

Didn’t save Africa,

Staring into our nightmare rectangles even though we know it’s bad for us.

There is no purer hatred than that we have of ourselves,

For it is only we that know ourselves

A Pavlovian response to the PornHub bassline curtails the biological impetus.

Impetuous in my impetuosity,

I write this to make you cringe,

Of and at me.