Friday, July 13, 2007

The War.

I was killed by Athena in the hallway.
There were framed pictures but I,
Stole the wood and made a boat.

Bad news in the alleys,
No more grates spewing steam.
No more Marilyn Monroe.
Not in the littlest sense of sensory perception.

But come on,
I’ve my wits about me,
And I’ve thought about suicide.
Not in the back of my mind,
Up front and center, that’s why I have a headache.

Everyday people think about it like sex.
Everyday people have headaches
That require a medication.
Then less sex, then less sex.
Then more medicine and they stillllllll have a headache.

You can’t figure out the swamp I’m in.
Shoddy lilac bog smoking hand-rolled cigarettes,
The smoke chokes me.
At least it was made by hand,
Not a million miles away by slaves.
I’m sorry. I paid those slave wages.
You too.

Hell if I ever want anything again.
Hunger pains are nirvana.
Nirvana is not worth solidarity
It can be found everywhere
In every place not looking for clammy hands,
And then you’ll find it in your hands at a school dance.

Could have danced with that Christian,
Might have should have.

Impersonal in all personal ads,
I’ll just advertise myself since I’m not enough in person.
How much per line?
I’ll keep it short. Even if my parents said I was priceless,
Personal ads cost money, then I’ll find someone to tell me I’m priceless.
And happiness abounds. Chivalry abides. White flower on my doorstep.

Take me into you
View my mugshot in profile.
Stand by your man.

Explain everything right away.
No stone left unturned.
A good soldier never leaves a man behind.
I’ll leave every stone path upside down.
Every stoned path, everybody must get stoned.

Desert, airplane missiles.
I’m not made out for kamikaze kabuki theatre.
I just like the masks
I just like the masks.
Make me whole again,
You’ll be whole again.

And then you’ll be too heavy to walk on water.
So let’s leave time-travel in those woods,
The place where you and I almost died,
Too tired to sleep,
Paisley explosions in the sky of my mind.
I don’t want to listen to the radio in Texas.

I’m stoned. Wasted. Gone. Bloodshot right on the money.
William Tell and the apple.
I’m stoned without ingesting any stones.
I’m always happy to be glad to be experiencing things that only matter to me.
You don’t even have to care.

We is creeps.
Creeping tree lined lanes in places where Mockingbirds are safe.
It’s too scary to even look at the house.
I was scared. Of my imagination.
I was scared by my imagination.

So kill me, keel you.
Shipwright brothers.
First flight of fancy and you stuff the air with apprehension.
Caught in the missiles, I’m riding them to the ground.
Caught up in the explosions, the kids didn’t see it coming.
I was a kid and I watched it. And we will all go to hell.

And every human being should be drawn and quartered,
For crimes against humanity.
But in the U.S. they are protected by a piece of paper they ignore when convenient.
And we ignore transgressions when it’s convenient.
It’s always convenient.
No one should have been born.
We are all going to hell
And area rebirths, spiritual awakenings
Then go back to sleep.

Well it is the most convenient hour to sleep.
Eyes shut, breathing, paisley explosions killing children you’ll never see.

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