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“Lawrence Welk Rerun” by Timothy Direlle Batson




He says we’re just bags of meat, metabolizing until we die

no meaning, no purpose

no meaning, no purpose

no meaning, no purpose

unless we make it ourselves


These words will never be seen on tokstagram

never be a pretty girl who cries about not being pretty

never be a pretty girl who laments about not being pretty enough

never fit the algorithm, fit the algorithm, be a pretty girl


There is a head in the noose in the gallows in the city square

smiling, spitting, crying

smiling, spitting, crying

waiting for the world to do its thing

waiting for the world to love again

smiling, spitting, crying


Grab a pillar of flame, let it burn, smoke into the sky

a pillar of flame that is your arm, that is your face, that is your eye

a pillar of flame to light a pyre

a pillar of flame to feed a fire

burning away what’s already gone, what’s already dead

I am meat, sinew, bone and spark

meaning purpose made

I am me

I am a pyre

I am me

I am a crier

I am me




Timothy Direlle Batson is a Seattle WA, based writer and weirdo.

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