creature

he who lurks here too often
one who:

• fantasises about the time when he flies around
• spells *distinctly* the British spelling of most words
• recognises little difference between selling out and giving up
• sees no objects or barriers in the way of finding true happiness
• has discovered the meaning of life, fairly early in life, at age 20.

this creature is kind, and gentle, and wishes for others to wear socialist stars
just to be one of the other animals
just to feel belonging, to know that the world will be alright
to know that self-inflicted labels can’t repel evil
but to know that they are also gratifying and esteem-boosting

this creature is curious
he likes foreign films and the artsy ways that they are presented
he likes music that paints – images in the mind only the way great storytellers can
he likes food that fluctuates between different and usual

this creature is respectful but not patient
there is no idol here, but there are many worshipped
and those who can’t keep up to that standard are downtrodden – in their own right

this creature dies each evening from overthinking
the doublespeak and big brother and illusions of democracy overwhelm
and yet this creature yawns awake early to expect the unexpected and experience it all once again

this creature doesn’t know how to dine and dash
doesn’t feel connections with those who will walk all over others
or display a sincere lack of gratitude

who am I? this creature.