Human thought breeds avatars to do its work above
from where they’re stowed below – emerging with a shove and jerk and tremble
out of their benign and assonant unblinking
semi-conscious bloat to activate, assemble
and invoke delaying tactics to waylay the active mind –
blabbering syllabic grunt and hiss, not unlike this:
to vent, foment procrastination, nervous doubt:
the exigent bewilderments of ever-new attempts
to ferret out another pretense of another strategy to fix
the chaos of your vast innumerable warring wants.
There is efficiency in feeling like a dunce –
of having not a clue what you should do.
It keeps you for a while at least from screwing up.
Fortunately, endless avatars are always queuing up.
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