the demand of hierarchy: bless your heart and spirit (made up symbols to reel people in and tell them to do anything) thou shalt produce, produce, produce. if you are
home, by yourself, jump around the house
uncomfortable thou shalt
become paralyzed at anything but looking up.
thou shalt join a religion, as if religion means anything
other than most of what's wrong with this world.
thou shalt recognize the role of god as manipulated
on all sorts of people and other aspects of life.
“this ugly motherfucker” was glorified by being in the cool magazine
that can’t give insight, but sells
their shit of their shitty friends to you
to make up for it
and is now your best friend too
and everyone’s. everyone is reading it.
"this ugly motherfucker" won't shut the fuck up about the
ugly motherfucker prior
and now these ugly motherfuckers are the dreams of
everyone. i masturbate to it over and over again. i can't stop
masturbating. america better
eat itself alive a little more quickly if i'm going to have to
continue living here.
there are victims in this, as always, there are victims. (uncle bob is in heaven.)
first of all, the marquis- he must've had an awful childhood he does not speak of, but i detect it. also, smother your eyes with skinny bitches who are victims in this. (they’re bound
to croak soon, anyway.) aren’t they
i reach out to them, dangling off a chandelier, off ceiling lamps, off shit hanging off the ceilings. "come here." i have to beg for permission to get closer. but i'll never be how they are. i'll never be perfect. nevertheless, i offer the pleiades shining, shining plastic in harmony to wrap themselves in until they stop breathing. they will stop breathing when they're not needed any longer. that would be when they've borne a good enough product.
we fall for it
we don't want it
to go away
will from now
on be (snarl snarl snarl snarl meow meow meow meow)
advertising, some “never wear fur” shit. you are not sure if you
could get involved with this advertisement campaign
but i need my appearance to be everything i have
and i don’t really have a choice, anyway.
it is obvious how oblivious i seem to be. i get thrown around
in my underwear. i'm a lone child being raped by several libertines
from one hundred twenty days of sodom. but i'm getting paid
so it works out.
you never know when the next backward bend of the elbow
is going to be a problem for you.
it is obvious how oblivious you all seem to be. the war
is here, the dragons wait to rip us to shreds
feeding their babies with us. caw. caw.
it is time
to back away from this bullshit. i know everything
is bullshit. i know. one day i will go. sometime. later.