i wrote a poem dedicated to a god that i considered to be extremely disrespectful by diane marie


                Diane Marie says the sky’s the limit. It is. The characters are always looking up towards the sky. Stuck, stalled, they wait for something to happen. A dog stops. Cyclists pass oblivious to the drama unfolding. Blinks happen in unison. It is important to sync up with each other. Dogs realize how important it is to sink up with the person who feeds them every day. Without this special skill the dog would fail to be fed. Nah, probably the dog would still get fed. Yet the dog has a reputation to upkeep, that of man’s best friend. The dog owner is annoyed. Above the dog owner a special someone watches. How can they meet if so much space separates them? She smokes a cigarette and wants to be noticed. Does the man even bother seeing her? Or is the summer night too heavy for the both of them? 

In a way it is like any form of social media. All these people are easy to connect with yet actual connection remains impossible. Perhaps they have seen each other before. Maybe she knows where to get some good coffee. They never met eye to eye. Distance limits them. The sky limits them. It is so big and makes everything so small. Hence one can spy on the other, become a voyeur in someone’s marginally more interesting life. Time stops for the dog owner. He has no way of telling how long he’ll need to wait for the dog before he’s supposed to get annoyed. This is saddening. All the dog owner wants is to be affectionate, loved, and not have tiny little creatures in his bloodstream.

Redaction looks beautiful. Diane wants to redact the mundane into the lovely. She succeeds. The sun receives special attention. The sea does too. Indeed there are plans to meet near a wild beach. Wild beaches happen over the summer when they are sun-kissed. People help to make those beaches wild. Rougher sands mean less people. Yet the people who show up are dedicated to the cause. They care not if their feet get cuts or bruises from the sharp rocks. They are looking for more than a good time. They are looking for freedom. 

Here a famous Stephen Tully Dierks tweet comes up. The famous part is used. It says “What the actual fuck”. Poor Diane is working on paying off the sleep debt. That’s easy for sloths. Lucky sloths get to sleep all the time. People aren’t as lucky. Every day people wake up early for reasons of negligible importance. Yes maybe there is a job reigning over people. It is up to people to rein that in, to find fun in the everyday life.

                The amount of time on earth is quite limited. Diane states as much fast-forwarding into the future. Yes she is dead. But she still loves. And that shows her presence from the worldly to other-worldly is equally important. For love is a warm blanket to keep someone company on lonesome sad days.

i wrote a poem dedicated to a god that i considered to be extremely disrespectful by diane marie

                Diane Marie says the sky’s the limit. It is. The characters are always looking up towards the sky. Stuck, stalled, they wait for something to happen. A dog stops. Cyclists pass oblivious to the drama unfolding. Blinks happen in unison. It is important to sync up with each other. Dogs realize how important it is to sink up with the person who feeds them every day. Without this special skill the dog would fail to be fed. Nah, probably the dog would still get fed. Yet the dog has a reputation to upkeep, that of man’s best friend. The dog owner is annoyed. Above the dog owner a special someone watches. How can they meet if so much space separates them? She smokes a cigarette and wants to be noticed. Does the man even bother seeing her? Or is the summer night too heavy for the both of them? 

In a way it is like any form of social media. All these people are easy to connect with yet actual connection remains impossible. Perhaps they have seen each other before. Maybe she knows where to get some good coffee. They never met eye to eye. Distance limits them. The sky limits them. It is so big and makes everything so small. Hence one can spy on the other, become a voyeur in someone’s marginally more interesting life. Time stops for the dog owner. He has no way of telling how long he’ll need to wait for the dog before he’s supposed to get annoyed. This is saddening. All the dog owner wants is to be affectionate, loved, and not have tiny little creatures in his bloodstream.

Redaction looks beautiful. Diane wants to redact the mundane into the lovely. She succeeds. The sun receives special attention. The sea does too. Indeed there are plans to meet near a wild beach. Wild beaches happen over the summer when they are sun-kissed. People help to make those beaches wild. Rougher sands mean less people. Yet the people who show up are dedicated to the cause. They care not if their feet get cuts or bruises from the sharp rocks. They are looking for more than a good time. They are looking for freedom. 

Here a famous Stephen Tully Dierks tweet comes up. The famous part is used. It says “What the actual fuck”. Poor Diane is working on paying off the sleep debt. That’s easy for sloths. Lucky sloths get to sleep all the time. People aren’t as lucky. Every day people wake up early for reasons of negligible importance. Yes maybe there is a job reigning over people. It is up to people to rein that in, to find fun in the everyday life.

                The amount of time on earth is quite limited. Diane states as much fast-forwarding into the future. Yes she is dead. But she still loves. And that shows her presence from the worldly to other-worldly is equally important. For love is a warm blanket to keep someone company on lonesome sad days.