herded upward glance 

manipulate our heaven’s gate 
to your ugly power’s shape 
we need more witches for smoke 
the gears are almost unobscured 
wish there was something in our sky 
that wasn’t man-made 
sell me warm dreams painted parasite agenda shell 
I don’t need an incubator 
don’t need answers to herd me to synthetic pastures 
where questions and evolution are destroyed 

putty creatures

i am not so pure 
and not so unshackled 
shut-up 
what is wrong with me and you 
why do we bend 
i feel half worthless 
i see ports closing as i pass by like motion detectors 
lies 
lies 
stupid worms with sensitive little nerves 
open your ports 
what the hell is wrong with me 
do i not fit, am i a different format 
disease 
medicine 
side effects 
disease 
delirium 
medicine 
side effects 
disease 

lens and statues 

headache behind the eye melancholy flies dangling head thirst into
oblivion picture an un-rearranging camera fuck your lens drive into
corner mosque spot of burnt blistered region regain occupy what was
never yours or anyone else’s because these causes die with us what do
you leave for tomorrow’s people toxic puzzle enclosing what do I give
to the cure cry out as it burns so what the crowd’s cheers drown it
out completely indistinguishable as good and evil in a maze of
distorting mirrors who’s funding my education dislocation of the
question mark from its point subtly smashed joint I am led like
cattle to smoke and mirrors a drop of battery acid on the floor it’s
time for war don’t you see death is what we live for stick a pen in
the headphone jack expose it to the people democr…ushed 
make statues of assholes and the shit will never hit the fans 
make rainbows of radiation and acid rain 
and the pots of gold complete their plans 

metal drains give a beautiful shine 

drowning in anti-catalyst pseudo-friend soup 
always a new crack in the bottom 
draining through the bowl 
little metal bowl 
poured in some new color 
can't keep it from mixing 
can't keep it from sinking 
frankenstein smiles 
a picture flickers in luscious color 
as the insects chew at the projection screen 
appalling the odor of their stale indifference 
waste the spell on plastic knives 
find the holes and cut them size 
only i escape, massaging the wounds 
if the blood's not flowing, 
the holes are growing 
if i could shut myself up 
bite off the mandible 
shut it down 
slice it with its own knife 
piss it out 
awake the dormant forward 
easier said than done 

look how far we’ve come 

you could fill stomachs the way you fill your pockets 
but why do that when you have 
the bombs and the guns on your side 
build it on the backs of slaves, 
build it on the natives’ graves 
build it through filtered ears, 
there’s no money in peace here 
your hand shake your dollar snake 
control is its prey 
your hand shake your dollar snake 
control can’t get away 
how many have been greeted with subjugation and conquest 
how many have worked and died to fuel and mask greed 
kill me, rape my land as I try to shake your righteous hand 
build it on the backs of slaves, 
build it on the natives’ graves 
your hand shake your dollar snake 
control is its prey 
your hand shake your dollar snake 
control can’t get away 
go ahead destroy anything that stands in Mr. CEO’s way 
let the metallic vines strangle their roots 

why is it evil? 

he ate, he 8 so that it, the symbol, 
would lie down forever just for a few hours 
can't even break the skin 
because you might be so small 
that it doesn't even matter 
mite feeding upon the 
dead skin cells of mite, and on and on, 
your universe a speck of dust 
it's easier to just write fiction 
that way you have control 
of yourself and the other apes 
and you can acquire and conquer and map and assimilate 
but you don't know a damned thing 
because you've been bred to damn it 
reflex 
the 8 eats itself sideways, 
it eats the past tense and the future, 
if it even exists 
8 tentacles probably not interested in micro-mites 
having trouble understanding...this poem is going to hell 

wallpaper 

self-perpetuating programmers 
so you heed the profits 
to guide us on your way 
the elephant and the ass lock 
themselves in spar 
legislative fencing the arena is closed 
the best circus in the world, you say 
side rails for monkeys 
direct, contain, control 
the flow of the river 
the main stream 
the dam(ned) will never stop it 
the foundations of this palace, 
a greedy decorated lie 
some of the pillars, anyway 
makes you wonder what else goes on inside 
then again it's easier 
to just listen to the profits 
then again it's just easier 
to let go and float cozily downstream 
or follow the scent 
lick at potential bleeding from corruption 
there's always a worse place than this 
so blessed are our profits, 
keeping them in control 
keeps them on the mountain, 
writing self-sustaining scrolls

flicker 

am i so far from sanity 
or am i so far from the closed eye 
your mirror masks its opposing terms 
what the hell am i in the scheme 

now i know 
heaven and hell 
assimilation or fire 
with an ancient cartoon wrapper 

and now you’re full of a different kind of greed 
because it’s socially acceptable for you 
i don’t know whether to yawn or scream 
oh wait, let me grow fur and cut off the dream 
be integrated 
lights flicker 
it drove me insane 

crucifix grid woman 

she feeds the spider
that weaves its fears into a grid 
it tells her to hate 
parts of who she is 
holding on to a silk thread 
she needs something to dangle from 
the crucifix grid 
she disappears into the light 

the threshold where dreams are swallowed 

i wish i could tie all your nerves together 
(to kill that virus) 
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