The Government’s Lottery
Pretty cold dirty
violent snowy violent
my life created by a
random plot generator
before Earth became a
meme
in the lottery my
number came up
the letter telling me the good news was written in pencil
an
aerogramme which I tore upon opening
images of threatened
marsupials
hand drawn by the philatelic
team
there was no money in
the prize just weapons
I had my pick an open
door but due to having saved
the world ten years
previously to no avail
nothing appealed
I left on a dusty
road no foliage no music
pretending to be real leant into the clock
woke in the future or
maybe it was the past
it’s so hard to tell these days
you can’t find a newspaper it’s all autogenerated
with an unknown matrix input
there wasn’t any blue just the crush of lilacs
after five days
smelling outrage
we had nothing left
but a neon sign
it blinked slowly so
I was able to take my time
reading between the luminous
gas-discharge tubes
a recursive story that
told me everything
I didn’t want to know.
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