Well wouldn’t you know it, after all those wasted hours of worrying and hand-wringing, all it took was a swift kick in the ass to send me flying in a straight line to my unobstructed future–as the crow flies.

I’ve learned that there are good piles and bad piles. I used to think they were all just piles; neutral, inoffensive. However, as piles grow, the accumulation of material magnifies the essence of the majority of its contents, leading to a hideous nine-headed monster or a raving sycophant yes-man. Perhaps it’ll grow into a doting mother of four or a casino mogul with a taste for alien flesh. At the end of the day, none of these outcomes will be reached without piles, those very building blocks of civilization; one thing on top of another on top of another, and so on and so forth until everything is either above or below everything else.


Author: Aidan Badinger I am a poet. I write poems. Titles and subjects and subsequent readership are all part of one fragmented figment of our universe, and it's nice that we take it so seriously. Hopefully the craft remains and grows stronger for our children.

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