Yawn...

A culture so stale as to bore an inventive venting vulture
and drones so weighted as to muster a lackluster collective wale
against such a fine tuned machine where cantankerous fits of rage
are no match for the wits of politically powered houses
and parasitic leeches and louses
feed graciously on our ever festering carcasses
and we cannot get passed pissed
because we are so fucking bored and tired
and they like it that way lest we be fired
for unpatriotic not with the program trend bucking
and even its all quite idiotic
we still are soooo fucking bored we stand ourselves less
than those we loathe is just plain depressing
to want gravy on the dressing and instead we create debt
to those we owe for what else is there to do but feed our need
for material sex or we could just say no but we won't.

By Hi Cell Lo...

Such a contradicting contrarian chic,
Two negatives cooked booked positive,
Else wise all looks quite bleak,
Whilst riding pre-bursting bubbles to peak,
Capitalistic math manipulates that way,
Shouldn't I be giddy my knees so weak,
Wasting precious existence each day,
As opportunity knocks and exploitation flocks,
We spin the digits and the widgets,
Warning! instantaneous free market midgets at play.

I make money in the Neocon reality,
Yet revulsion lurks before dried ink,
The rip and tear of war torn peoples,
Bored with that before yellowed pages in sync,
Wash my sins in vaulted steeples,
Cleansed in the forgiven dipped drink,
Bare young soldiers lose life and limb,
The market has that all factored in,
Capitalism’s ugly sin.

Buy on rumor sell on news,
Same old so-so concerning Muslims and Jews,
I understand usage yet disgusted in seeps,
The consistent no surprise up we go creeps,
I love the benefits I get from the corp whore... yet yik,
Materialistic consciousness left unfulfilled,
Creative excessiveness killed,
Were I a lifeless matchstick,
Were a matchbox to hold my clothes,
I might have more time to write better prose.

Woo Woo...

The freight train roars weird outside,
Not so much a warning,
But an announcement,
Not so much a huge metal rambling from A to Z,
But a blistering rant of rage at breakneck speed,
And wouldn't you?
No variances
No wanderings,
No donuts,
No wheelies,
Acceleration and deceleration monotonousness,
Governed by the bottom line,
Urgency with respect to frequency and trajectory,
Shortest distance between two points...
Hurry hurry hurry,
Maybe a derailment is in order,
But that's not usually good.

Sex Bacon...

Who needs crack when one has bacon?
Sex bacon is at best a dripping, sizzling, crackling,
Smoky orifice jamming mess,
Artery congesting hell in a pan,
Accompanying morning smells with coffee and ciggy in hand.
That surely will cure a Bohemic Anemic,
When lost is newBuddha Kerouac who died for our sins,
And forgotten Coltrane blowing the love supreme resurrection,
And misplaced Ginsberg parting the angleheadded hipster sea,
Because dripping fat is where it’s at,
Greased and sliding chewy salty against the grind,
The carcinogeous crusty clogged portals dull the senses,
Like when alcohol do what alcohol does,
A deterioration not at all so purposeful,
Like when you forget who you fucked today,
And how you fucked them,
And you lose your creative fuck ability,
And everything is lost,
But bacon.

The Great Indenture

I stare in disbelief of all around me,
Generations of unknowing unwitting plebes,
Elderly babes in the ways of usage,
Passing the lineages of forgotten foundations past,
Where have all the farms gone?
Who has title to what?
Come borrowers come beggars come loan to income ratio makers
Are you played when you are paid?
Who fucked who lest be us not mutually laid,
Power manipulates with money that legislates,
And you get your piddle,
Drenched in the immaculate ejaculate,
And that is your bone to chew on,
And you are happy because you exist a little longer,
With interest due and taxes pending,
Encouragement offered incentives discounted,
And who wants to be part of all this maniacal lending,
As you slip deeper in debt,
As you work harder to get more,
As you get tax bracketed supreme,
As you lose your free time in someone else’s dream,
As giddy pants fill up with cream,
As you add to your approaching end same,
As it ever was same,
As it ever was same,
As it ever was.

I stare in disbelief of all before me,
Pulling back from the herd to rest face forward down,
To breathe in the dust and exhale into the earth,
While the smell of ancient must ricochets back into my face,
And all that is old is there,
All that was and ever will be stands constant,
And the herd heads forward into the great unknown,
While the herders fall silent into the dark,
And they wait because they can afford to be patient,
And the herd overreacts with fear and loathing,
And then with irrational exuberance,
And the herders wait to pilfer pockets and exasperate,
But the herd is the herd and I am not,
I am face down inhaling the earth,
I am feeling the grit between my teeth,
I am packing dust and sand into my nostrils,
I am licking where mammals have treaded
I am licking where insects have slithered,
I am I owe therefore,
I am I owe therefore,
I am I owe therefore,
I am.

I stare in disbelief of all behind me,
Texts riddled with lobs against the gods,
And nothing kept holy by those who were disemboweled,
As they went forth and fucked in the name of the bottom line,
Their brood inherited that master plan,
And nothing changed,
Their tech surpassed our tech and surpassed their tech,
And nothing changed,
More players added to the feast,
More mutton in the belly of the beast,
And nothing changed,
And I watch as all is perceived okay,
And this is our destiny,
And this is how we are great,
And I choke on my own vomit from the overindulgence of nothing,
Because that nothing changed,
Dry heaves and blown away leaves,
And greener grasses are being mowed by someone,
So now I step over destitute poop,
So I can walk barefoot in the park,
So what if the legions seep out through lesions,
So what if they stumble, ice picks in eyes now dark,
So what if they do if,
So what if they do if,
So what if they do if,
So what.