Misdirection

Beware the way lit for you
large blinking neon arrows
wash your path in red light
directing life like traffic
guiding decisions like a Skinner box
choice was never
but that what was chosen for you
culture, religion, brand of toothpaste
put on a track
greased and maintained
word after word, hand picked
by strange hands
it’s easy and appeasing
when in the river
to go with the flow
bend like a reed in the current
not to spit into the wind
all those things you’re told
to do
not to do
to do, not to do, to do, not to do, to do
whichever route is smoothest
kicks up not as much blinding dust
to cause you to lose your way
wander astray
come to your conclusions
live your own life
not the one chosen
by parents, by community, God and country
by the enemy lighting your way

‘nid

It senses my murder
crawls faster
giggling teenage girls on the pavement
as if all is normal… no violation
as I rise
swinging Sex and Death
like a man afraid of both

Earlier, calmly reading
nerves steady
until couchward it comes disrupting
over the top
like oncoming traffic
blindly cresting a winding hill
Zroooo… right by
a flash sweat near hit
and hit is what I must
panic reactor
jumping up
pumping down
all adrenalin and excitement
I wipe its bug-nourished guts
off Spalding’s face
using an old receipt from CVS store #6976
and as his face comes clean
I can’t help but feel
Mr. Gray always knew it
would happen this way
to the age 14

Espresso

how the bitter depths of an acid brew,
murky darkness so complete,
a foam skein like a storm cloud,
in its rush to the lips,
the bite to the throat,
warmth welling in the belly,
does clean and sharpen
honing mind like blade
prepared for attack
a black lightning strike of clarity
like drinking an encyclopedia
or a treatise on logic
bonds of blood are not as strong
as the power contained in the cup
each sip
a new day rising
a fresh order to the world
an extension of life
not in time
but in space and light
expanding within
filling out
inky deliverance from limitations
a chantreuse hitting hitherto unimagined notes
higher and lower, pouring out of me
songs like entropy
the heat released
transferred to the cold infinite void
left with emptiness
a brown stain
a spangling of grounds like expired stars
against the ceramic concavity of the universe
containing now only absence

Hate Speech

the leviathan has been seized by greater powers
squalid profit brains hold the reins
guide the state to war and make it drink

in the corporate form
has arisen a god
more powerful than any sandy-assed Semite
take note!
the protocols of the elders of Zion
is but a light snuffed in a mining disaster
the dead canary of the failure
of the mind to breathe reason
when up against
what is so obvious and plain
nations embattled
for petty causes
of multi-national tyrants
who would exhaust the treasure of the land
to gain a barren desiccated waste
and if they can
command men in uniformed battalions to line up to their deaths
corrupt men in intelligence agencies to falsify evidence
convince elected leaders to betray ideals they swore to uphold
connive with courts to strip individuals of rights
rob from the public
and hand it all over to private hands…
if they can do all this
and believe me they can
then what they desire is the law
is the rule
the new dogma
beyond church and state
all now – the whole of what is right and wrong
is relative
to the duty owed the shareholders
the voracious class
cutting rough hewn paths of greed to servitude
shareholder, slave owner
the yellow bricks are lain down
a golden road to the future
cowardice and avarice
manufactured by our masters
made possible by our democracies
corporations are people my friend
if that be so
then consider this hate speech
strike the subhuman beasts down
their money or their lives
stand and deliver

Family Fuel

Family is a luxury
that any can afford to have it
tells us much about ourselves
we think it has always been
and has always meant the same thing
as what it does now
as if our well-documented relations
of today
were a given
or even possible
then
in time deep, removed
do you think your forebears
gave a fuck
that to them it mattered
in small vulnerable bands of apes
who fathered who
or from which cunt
what young
was dribbled
they did and could not
starvation days and scarcity diets
will do that to a people
to your old people
of many millenniums ago
eating a nephew
was better than dying
that is still now
in our DNA
who we are
don’t forget it
family is a luxury
and a luxury
can be a caloric warehouse
when times are lean

Enclosure

I would rather could it be
the world turned inside out
at the center suspended
the burning molten core
doing the sun’s duty
to live closed off
from the vertigo of infinity
the deep and fearful array
full of stars
and much more terrible
slow tumbling unseen in the dark
inside the Earth a womb
cloistered, protected
hidden from the hostile indifference
of the universe
of existence
blind to reality
ignorant of the accelerating expanse
safe within our sphere
our grand global reversal
warm inside mother
no cold moon
to bring to mind the gray sterile lifelessness
waiting at the end

If I could make it be
the world turned inside out
for long enough
then maybe too we could forget
who and what and where we are
return to our smallness and centrality
welcome home like an old friend
our significance and importance
believe renewed in the glorious design
to live once more in happy assumptions
contract space
make manageable eternity
no more galaxies
no more quasars
no more black holes or light years
all slowed down
forever minimized
us and our Earth
interred within her
like children unborn
like a head up an ass

Legend Unbound

All legends come to diminish
even our greatest
of duplicative technologies
cannot keep disintegration of lore at bay
mass production produces masses
all of a crowd equally frail and transitory
for the landfill of human memory bound
for the fraying of human minds unsound
for the braying of new madness found
for it all
water will come
earth will and fire will
wind will come
mobs will and wars will
ideologies will come
for it all exists in peril
by geo-political…
geo-societal…
geo-logical… will
work, toil, fight
cannot save
suffering
cannot save
martyrdom
cannot save
ends come, they arise always
willful or hateful or accidental
or not
‘twas of no matter to Alexandria
to Horace, Agathon, Aeschylus
or Bakhtin smoking Yevsky
in fires, in graveyards, in despair
Rocky Mountains will Appalachians become
slow erosion by elements and error
by the cessation of benefactors
thrusting up their heights
until the grand formidable
is entirely get-riddable
and nobody sings the eulogic dirge
because
melody and word
it’s lost too

Politics of Fear and Love

I.
Conservatives fear the future
terrified of the unknown
they legislate against
every step forward
is one set forth upon a slippery slope
where rapid descent
into economic perishment
and unavoidable wantonness is imminent
scientific predictions
are met with denial
when the truth is frightful
the frightened fight truth
progress is to be halted
prepared for
in bunkers and silos
by hording food
stockpiling weapons and ammunition
the end is always nigh
God is angry
mankind is being brought to the brink
and leftist politics are at fault
faggots, feminists and foreigners
the whole world’s scary
monsters gibbering in dank darkness
fairytales consuming souls.

II.
Liberals fear the past
terrified of the barbarism of history
the well known quantity
of man’s incivility to man
documented violence
slaughter of enemies
destruction of their homelands
savage rapes and slave impregnations
the legacy that stains our DNA
victim blaming
murder glorification
genocide in the name of supernatural entities
against this delusion of terrors
they hope to establish Leviathanic levees
never to be topped
rising stolid
as to not slip into yesterday’s vulgarities
human nature
our ancestry
is foulness to be vanquished,
the fire-belching stench scaled beast
to be lanced through
finally, by science
an end of biology through technology
fairytales filling holes.

III.
Conservatives love answers
their minds are soothed by absolutes
like a medieval realist
who closes his eyes
and peeping-Toms his way into the mind of God
to spy upon what it is the good Lord craves
convictions are better than facts
be they stupid things or stubborn
nothing is better than blind certainty
blinkered reality
longing for a Catholic authoritarianism
a master’s guiding hand
holding theirs
leading dogs on leads
a thousand leashes in a single hand
barking mad
in a pack, always lock-step
because perfection never wavers
unflinching unity is the key
to ameliorate nuance
mold truth by force of will
lessen the horror of mystery
except for God’s
who happens to work that way.

IV.
Liberals love questions
their minds are soothed by inquiry
like a detective on the case
dedicated to a solution
cozying up to the killer
looking to slap on the cuffs
seize the facts
put the mystery out of its misery
there is nothing
not worth the exploration
they diverge, disagree
fight amongst themselves
in the search for what’s what
there is no unity
no unspeaking God to be under
evidence is sought
facts are worthy of stone
not laws
things change and so does man
wood combusts into fuel
fuel drives the machine
the machine needs tending and modification
changing positions and looking into
that’s life
it happens to work that way.

Ayn Rand

What is
your conundrum?
What is your
puzzle?
What is your Anglican mystery?
Is it your god?
Is it your vagina?
Do you feel it in that sad place?
Are you mocked for it?
Fucked for it?
Christened in Persepoli?
Loved?
Aboved?
Guardianed by hairy men?
Qualified by merry men?
Aborted by a quick decision?
Too bad
you weren’t
unhappy
irrelevant.
Love is a well made lawn
is a tall gray home
is a catastrophic cum
you flail in the cunt debris
victim of the busy bee
misdeliveries
in the wet nurse moon-light
comatose
in the high school spot light
a pathetic delivery son of I Am
Yahweh singing
doo-dee-doo-doo – I am Ayn Rand.

Procrastination of the Living Dead

The dead procrastinate forever
as you live
keep them in mind
do what needs doing
soon you’ll be unable