who is more moral?
the one who preaches the moral,
or the one who attempts to live the moral
and fails.

what is more pretty?
a dog licking its own feces,
or a model covered in makeup
walking down an aisle.

when does this end?
when one clock chimes at midnight,
or when i look out over the bridge
above a ravine
and jump.

when will one side claim victory?
the general will stand on a hill
and watch his army decompose,
or the rats will infest my small abode.

talking never solved any problems.
it was just talking about problems
until they weren't problems.

i have anger waiting to tear itself from my skin,
but i laugh instead.
i laugh so loud
that the man in the next apartment knocks
on my door and asks me what is wrong.

remember when you encouraged me to enlist in the army
and later i found out you were fighting for the other side?

remember when i fell asleep and woke up
and you were there and we feel asleep?

i say i do unto others as i would
hope they would do unto me,
but then again i don't know what they would do
unto me.

retrospectively, it is much easier to regret
the choices we made and the reasons why
we made them.

but then it is in retrospect
that we realize that we are
dwelling in a strange period in space and time.