Augmented Plot
…I’m getting better and better-er
I do not see no competitors…
—Cardi B
Laid too hard in the
heat of the day. Now
it’s time to get up.
There’s no way I can
possibly endure one
more minute of in
action, not a chance
in hell I can sustain
these troublesome
distractions any
longer. And yet
this limbo agitato
endures. I keep
finding ways. Why
did I come to this
world in such a
rush to get so much
accomplished? A
hedonistic over-
achiever who is
prone to procrasti
nation, yet with each
second that passes
in which nothing is
produced I’m over
whelmed with noise,
a crescendo of guilt
for each moment
that passes for which
I’ve no way to prove
to myself or to you
that the moment
even existed?? And
at this rate, what will
be left when I’ve gone
from this earth to
begin to hint at
this idiot’s existence?
How to resist this
headlong rush so
determined to erase
all traces of me from
this planet? And yet
what would I do with
a bit of attention, to
have a few folks, even
one see or hear me?
To notice that I’m here
making noises for what?
And of course when I’m
gone there will be no
excuse, who’ll need or
even want a map or a
few hidden clues to
this most nondescript
trajectory? I’d like to
beg to differ, to use
as motivation a way
to gather the energy
to make a bigger noise,
to leave a bigger map,
one less mysterious
for folks less interested
in buried treasure than
a life that was lived not
just to generate a nice
and modest existence,
one that might have
someone tilt their head
this way and that as if
looking for something
important just beyond
a distance, and then
upon spotting a glimmer,
and returning the head to
