Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

dead or in jail

heaven went to hell in the history museum parking lot. I sat in my car, 2 great gay dogs sitting shotgun, waiting for my brother to exit the free store.
the wind raged outside, while Wash U students spent a winter's worth of free loading in the basement of their society's subterannean shithole school.
the new fool's gold is these girls waling around with thick sunglasses and a tan,
faceless vixens,
fake mistakes of their daddy's pasts.
I go deaf hearing their screams of silence at full blast through my headphones.
the dogs draw puppy eyes from every girl from my past walking by. Then I look up
their ignorance is blissful. this rich bitch culture has me walkin with a limp to hide my identity.
my tapped cell phone rings every 3 minutes with a "what are you up to today?" from what I'm pretty sure are the last real humans being left
in this corporation infested lawless land.
do work to get money to get (things)
even I'm apart of this throwaway culture.
count your handtomouths over the course of a day.
so quick to psychosocially satisfy serotonin intake with that beer
that toke
the smokes the choke
go for broke
it's all a head rush
I'd like to say there's a peaceful end to all of this
but I'd rather kick honest knowledge that 100 years after it was all set up to fail
I'll be dead or in jail.
either lobotomized by the pen in my ear, ready to write the scathing state of fascistpoliceville
with the papers in hand,
at the printing press
ready to unleash the information to set the west free of it's wageslave chains
only to have the only CIA agent I couldn't get a picture of come up behind me with a slow pace,
having made love to me for 3 years and whisper,
"you were right, we are always watching you."

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