Poetry by Damion Hamilton

Digital World

Living the digital world,

staring for hours on the computer screens,

Instagram that, Facebook,

Twitter this, Quora that,

writing on a Word Doc,

you gotta snap back into the real world

bang,

it hits you

it’s real and overwhelming,

to see a real eye, and a real nose,

teeth,

you stagger like a just born kitten,

gotta move more in this real world

thing

not click, not image

yet concrete, outside the screens

reality voices, reality bodies

reality sounds

away from the strange screens.

walk into trees.

 

 

 

Dead Bull

wild and strong

you see the strength the movements

 

everything so strong and coordinate

it’s like one collective muscle imbibed in stingy darkness

but they come to kill it, and what a great pleasure in killing this

with their giving and their drugs, and this thing becomes not what it was

no longer proud beautiful dangerous lusty strong bold

the bull cowers now, doesn’t walk as strong or confident.

most of these powers have been taken away, becoming moribund and decrepit

it staggers now, move slowly, slowly, when it wants to sprint and feels it’s vigor

but the vigor is no more, tamed by drugs and laws and rules and more dopey dope

to kill what existential, something that was supposed to be here, something that couldn’t be given by man or woman, the corpse off the road by the interstate,the cars buzz by, beatle-like, to their place to be.

 

 

 

The Treadmill

wake up a 6

do your thing

the real routine

structure, you gotta be

at the place,

do the thing

routine routine routine

 

you have done this hundreds of times

before, thousands

of times you are on the treadmill

the older you get, this treadmill

becomes more bearable

drink the bear, take Ambien

this thing must be done by tomorrow

this treadmill

bye