SEPTEMBER 2001 DIARY
by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"
Monday, September 10, 2001
Just another meaningless day;
To hate the unconscious who get in my way.
Cans without labels, inconspicuous on the shelf;
Indistinguishable from another, no revealing of self.
Perfunctory greetings not amounting to much;
Just nods, clichés, false smiles, and such.
Don’t want to know you or be your friend;
Got my own matters I need to attend.
Colorless lives withdrawn in the gray;
Nothing to look forward to, nothing to say.
Sleep, TV, eat, drive, work, drive, eat, TV, sleep;
Mad palindrome existence concocted in the Deep.
Tuesday, September 11, 2001
Much like every day before;
Except for the office excitement as I opened up the door.
The “comings” and “goings” of the workaday machine,
Seemed somehow out of sync with the palindrome routine.
The “Zombies of the Office”, the “Being-There Blind Guides,”
Were magically enlivened just four days before the Ides.
All gazed transfixed hypnotically upon the TV screen,
Surrealistic time suspended by the horror that was seen.
The oubliettes of the minds we live in, our own protective shells,
No longer seemed safe havens but rather, personal Stygian Hells.
As the Grand Guignol played before us, we began to look around;
To seek comfort from those about us, kindred spirits newly found.
Wednesday, September 12, 2001
Now comes the time to reflect and pray;
Because yesterday’s tomorrow has now become today.
Boaz and Jachin’s thousands were scripted in the plan to die;
Now the millions of us remaining ask the eternal question, “Why?”
The answers that we seek are written upon our souls;
The price of Liberty and Freedom comes not without its tolls.
We danced the dance of hatred, racism, prejudice, and greed;
On the Eleventh, the bill came due to pay the Piper for his deed.
The blood of sacrificed martyrs is the payment he requires,
So we may drink of his Nepenthe and pander to our desires.
The Wise Son of David told us long before this had begun,
Nothing under the Sun is new which has not already been done.
Just another meaningless day;
To hate the unconscious who get in my way.
Cans without labels, inconspicuous on the shelf;
Indistinguishable from another, no revealing of self.
Perfunctory greetings not amounting to much;
Just nods, clichés, false smiles, and such.
Don’t want to know you or be your friend;
Got my own matters I need to attend.
Colorless lives withdrawn in the gray;
Nothing to look forward to, nothing to say.
Sleep, TV, eat, drive, work, drive, eat, TV, sleep;
Mad palindrome existence concocted in the Deep.
Tuesday, September 11, 2001
Much like every day before;
Except for the office excitement as I opened up the door.
The “comings” and “goings” of the workaday machine,
Seemed somehow out of sync with the palindrome routine.
The “Zombies of the Office”, the “Being-There Blind Guides,”
Were magically enlivened just four days before the Ides.
All gazed transfixed hypnotically upon the TV screen,
Surrealistic time suspended by the horror that was seen.
The oubliettes of the minds we live in, our own protective shells,
No longer seemed safe havens but rather, personal Stygian Hells.
As the Grand Guignol played before us, we began to look around;
To seek comfort from those about us, kindred spirits newly found.
Wednesday, September 12, 2001
Now comes the time to reflect and pray;
Because yesterday’s tomorrow has now become today.
Boaz and Jachin’s thousands were scripted in the plan to die;
Now the millions of us remaining ask the eternal question, “Why?”
The answers that we seek are written upon our souls;
The price of Liberty and Freedom comes not without its tolls.
We danced the dance of hatred, racism, prejudice, and greed;
On the Eleventh, the bill came due to pay the Piper for his deed.
The blood of sacrificed martyrs is the payment he requires,
So we may drink of his Nepenthe and pander to our desires.
The Wise Son of David told us long before this had begun,
Nothing under the Sun is new which has not already been done.
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