Fine shops, cheap shops.
Watch the watches.
Because time,
It passes.
The world is restless.
Outside,
Socrates with a hemlock bottle.
Needs nothing,
Wonders what others need.
Why stop? Must shop!
Sulfur matches.
Because life,
It passes.
You turn to ashes.
Inside,
Well, well, can you smell hell?
Sees nothing,
Wonders what others see.
First Published on Volkov Is Thinking
I wasted
twenty days.
For twenty days
I did not think at all.
I downloaded a game
because I was bored.
I played
day in, day out.
For twenty days
I did not think at all.
I played the game
and nothing more
until today.
I uninstalled the game
as soon as I woke up.
I was dreaming about it.
Crazy.
It’s mid-May already,
and I cannot think.
I cannot think at all.
All the bars are closed,
and the happy hours
are gone.
The bartenders are quarantined.
And the DJs —
what are the DJs up to?
The coffee shops are sanitized
and vacant.
It seems
the espresso machines
are silently waiting
for the old status quo to return.
You know,
my nostrils miss the coffee aroma
of weekday mornings.
I walk around
wearing a disposable surgical mask
and disposable latex gloves.
I look around.
Nothing has changed,
but everything seems different.
And no one’s here
with me
to see what I see.
I find a supermarket open,
and I walk in.
I don’t need anything,
so I walk out.
Then I walk back in
and buy
toilet paper.
Bored Absurdist 