a taloned foot spring-loaded at the back of my neck
eyes heavenward for the signal
to yank my head to and across the floor for eternity
Religion may be a lie
but any other reaction feels less evolved next to prostration
The dividing line between man and ape
The aha of the soul
What happens when you glimpse by eclipse
that every single thing in your life
happens with as much necessity and perfectness as the orbits
The only real prostration is involuntary
Life is endless prayer for that fall
that fall the only point in life when prayer ends.
I'm a 28-year-old Pakistani American ex-Muslim ex-Canadian ex-student ex-cool guy self-evicted recently. It would be years now who just wants a chance to write for a living because everything's either hellishly boring to where I have to pretend I'm scoring points in some cosmic moral fiber ledger or so hard I have to bank on that ledger if I hope to make a dent.