Just one of those days.
I don’t know if the planets lined up weird,
Or maybe the earth tipped a bit on its axis?
Strange pulling lunar tides?
Nitrous oxide leaking up from some subterranean
molten chemistry set deep in the core?
The air grainy and strained
like the third copy of cheap B grade horror flick,
static taped over static and colored in with crayons.
Heavy undertones of not so much a vibe but an anti-vibe
hang in a thick smog that breaths
gloomy misfortunes born of good intentions dipped
in the venom of enticing justifications.
Boiling history and other useless aspirations
in a cauldron of speculation.
Almost as if the ghosts and apparitions
that guard the mystery let their minds wander and slip,
their fierce gazes unfocused and askew.
The world was having a bad acting day,
fighting hard to keep up the illusion of being real.