Tired of being baffled

The trouble is

Your world bleeds into my world.

If you wanted to mess with me

You couldn't do a better job

Than you are already doing!

Your world reeks of chemicals.

Sometimes the smell of your world

Washes through my brain.

I know you don't believe me

But you have to be programmed

To like the smell of gasoline

And your air freshener.

Sometimes I want to close and seal all my doors

And windows

So I can smell my own smells,

The smells of my life, my cooking.

But I'm finding it hard

To even eat my way

Back to some semblance of sanity.

What is that smell? you ask, wrinkling your nose.

It's my organic compost!

To me rotting food smells good

Because I know what it is becoming.

Soon it will be smelling

Like a healthy forest floor.

You love your new car smell,

But the sweet chemical smell

Of your bathroom

Drives me up a wall.

What can we do about this schism?

I want less concrete, more weeds.

You want fewer insects

So you can host your parties in your sterile yard

Surrounded by 8 foot walls

While I want fewer walls

And more insects!

I'm tired of being baffled by you,

Of worrying about what misguided project

You are going to invest in next.

Don't you see the strings

That make you dance?

Don't you see how the rules you follow

Are etched across your reality screen?

Some day your eyes will be

Two way cameras

Or maybe they already are,

In which case this poem,

That is being read

By your invisible overlord,

Is just one installment

Of a long drawn-out good-bye.