Drones by Dana Carlson

Drones

by Dana Carlson

The people in the art galleries can stand before A Rothko for hours and deduct no meaning From the liberal paint swathes of red and blue Just as I can deduct no meaning From you and blame it all on God But what is this fate we speak of when there is no meaning To life that the constellations or the Bible can give to me: It’s an outdated transcript that explained before science but today has no meaning Just like a page of poetry to the average fraud Soliciting sex in library aisles with knowledge of iambic pentameter having no meaning To him other than the promise of romps as disappointing as what’s in his pants But he is hungry to whisper cunning phrases with no meaning Into the ears of naive girls, pubescent girls, hopeful girls that still pray, still have faith That their middle class lives will be more someday but really there’s no meaning To love because it is a fallacy, an artificial confection no more natural Than the engineered preservatives that keep our groceries fresh and give us cancer.