It creeps, wafts,
stumbles, slithers
I'm breathing
I'm breathing
I'm breathing
ambiguous auditory
patterns
flattening visual
texture
industrial chaos
pungent and
poignant, percolating
rolling, fumbling,
crawling, receding
building, slicing,
clouded collective conciousness
microcosmic
elevators
that feed the mighty
arm attached to the wheel of progress,
tilling and sowing
the concrete ravine of humanity
Breathing,
breathing,
breathing
rumbling, raging,
void
blazing up the
skyscraper of your minds,
humming like a
pinball machine in a dirty pizza place
Your reflective
existence, awake from hibernation
And you wad it up
like used toilet paper to be flushed down the toilet bowl of your soul
Until the static
And the screaming
and the wailing, in
and out of oblivion
oblivion, being the
futility of all civilization and all order
anemic and desperate
horrified of
everything that isn't
conditioned
contentment for everything that is
dripping, diving,
sliding, squiggles
manifest
perspectives
the evolution of
complacency and safety
wayward you drift
seemingly
symmetrically focused
life, fractured and
glitched,
ill-formed
rectangles, caught in a euphemism, driven by a perceived existence of justice
and imagined inequality
the dim green bulb
of your future is yellow, yet forever red
an entire culture
sitting, standing
waiting and pointed
You whisper to
yourself about life, yet you are swallowed whole by nothing, forever becoming
Droned into, out of,
for, with, and tech-no-ology?
electric sizzle
skittering around your space,
rustling, ransacking
neurons
short circuit
conception
dirty wires running
nowhere
in nothing
And now assemble
stomping the
streets, to the liquor store, to the drug dealer and party house
Leopards and Lions
and Bears
trapped in the
ironic zoo of your fear
A billion conquerors
before, who have only trapped themselves in armed security by means of
mind-numbing conformity
Yet, a billion
conquers will come after, to liberate the souls of the trapped,
to liberate from
madness
liberate through
madness
and be liberated by
madness
Gather, closer shy
and quiet masses,
timid and tumultous
are the many
just
sit
down
lie there, down in
your own feces,
lie sleeping while
the children of the future beg their parents for some money to buy a handful of
peanuts from the machine, to toss alarm clocks through the narrow cage of your
life, as reminders that you need to awaken, and perform, and you are traumatized
into obedience by the relentlessly slow drip of infinite shells down your
enormous, sweaty back.
aesthetic
yellow, grey static
while green orbs,
twitching
spiraling madness
The sign is proudly
hung from old animal pelts and steel
the hot glue stink
of the night
the tight pants of
revolution
the white, silk
neckerchiefs of society
buzzing and fading
into memory of the haze of progress
consumption's
leftovers
picked from the
dumpster of your American dreams and recycled by madmen and madwomen, donated
to chaos and to aide the real refocusing of the American dream
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