Poetic Terrorism

I
	These wars become totalitarian.
	They are sifting the edges
of our struggles for the strong & the violent,
determined to weed out the population.
We are in the midst of a huge genetic experiment.
	Betray this great secret?
  Open up the walls of conspiracy 
to admit outsiders?
  Hang him from a low bridge, his feet in water!
  We are ruled by our fears.
	There is a vague restlessness 
flowing through us, we search for a target
for our anxieties, but the neon lords
 remain merely flickering shadows.
  The masters of the engine remain hidden away
 in five-sided castles.
	We are drowned out by the noise we’ve created.


II
	We gather together as treasonous bastards,
 all of our reasons stink of perceptions,
 we are the heretics of politics 
& ignorance was never bliss.
  Want innocence?  Have none of this.
	Stare through the veils
 the lords have constructed. 
 We are not sheep to be led astray,
 there are darker deeds 
in the Halls of the Masters,
 & warrior slaves defending his honor
 & we are left with only our purpose.
	Destroy this farce of existence
 & leave it behind in the histories we write.

	Behind closed doors they meet,
 straining to stain reality
 with their own private purpose,
 drain away all sense of freedom
 & implant us with their motives.
  We are caged rats,
 sodomized by the fractures of time,
 lost by the wayside.
  You want truth, the essence of being,
 & the wishes of temptation?
	They own it all,
 they buy & sell reality,
 & they desire what we cannot imagine.

III
	Throw ourselves against these walls,
 shatter their very foundations,
 & shake them apart if we can,
 burn them down if we cannot. 
 We must fight for recognition
 in this dark world into which we were born
 there is no peace.
	Truth is sold on the black market,
 trade truth by the kilo,
 cut truth with baby laxative,
 & sell truth in the back alley.
  Move in on another’s market
 with high-grade truth;
 back it up with superior firepower.
  Our truth is better than your truth.

	& When the liars come, 
ejaculating tear gas
 into the mobs of the millennium,
 you too will know that hard edge of what now,
 where shall I run?
  Are you armed & waiting
 like all the rest of us?
  Have you made your dig in plans
 with those that you trust?
	When the system falls,
 will you be trapped in its rubble,
 or on the outside hurling molotovs into the fire?


IV
	We were meant to be the dreamers,
 yet we are poverty stricken
 & consumed by neglect.
  We absorb our fates,
 link new days to old ways,
 timeless in unity. 
 We exist to reactivate evolution… 
 open the third eye folks, 
that’s what it’s all about.
	In our world there is no skyline
 that is not filled with greed & decay, 
no breeze that does not bear the taint of smog,
 no beauty that does not hint at brutality.
	We live here, 
consumed by consumer interests,
 governmental babysitting, 
pandered to on the tube,
 by the tube, 
for the good of all tubes…
  such is our fate,
 if we choose to submit to it.
	We are more than a target audience,
 more than a mismatched buyers club
 that has become the favorite son
 of the great ignorant Nelson family
 created by the lowest common denominator… 
 this is our eye to the world outside 
as long as we remain behind locked doors.


 V

	We the people got our heads up our asses,
 we can’t see the facts 
that lie behind the masks
 we’ve designed,
 we accept all that is thrown our way
 like a dog performing a trick.
  As long as we ignore those
 who we have given power over us
 we will be controlled.
	Consider this, 
the whole world is a corrupt frag
mented reincarnation of Chicago, 
a brutal reinvention of New York,
 a bitter recollection of Los Angeles,
 a bastardized reality from Seattle.
 A beautiful country of senseless zombies,
 a world of no-though & isms & religions,
 a mindless video war where no one can think
 & success is based on scraps of paper.


VI

	If you seek nothing you will find it.
  There is no reason for the ritual
 if you don’t believe in magick,
 there is no purpose in denial
 if there is no sin.
  No one is following you
 if you are not paranoid,
 & nothing haunts you
 if there are no ghosts.
	You are nonsense
 if you refuse & resist
 your own driving purpose, 
you become a whore to a system
 you did not impose & do not support.

	Don’t know about you, 
but my generation is a misfit undertow,
 addicted to uppers & downers & anti-depressants.
  Don’t know about you, 
but I am tired of being force-fed spurious nonsense
 in time-slot chunks.
  My world is the slow inequity
 of the past
 buried beneath the wells
 of our current compassion.


VII

	We are the slackers of the shadows,
 those driven beyond petty & sacred
 to the closed heart of shame,
 bitterness,
 & repression,
 surfacing now, briefly,
 revealing darker compulsions.
  We are dragged apart in each other’s arms,
 sent shattered, screaming,
 impaled by the void.
	We are thug, hormone, sword.
  We are trivial, serial, non-compliant. 
 Tragedy has become our looking-glass expression,
 disease our inspiration.
	We achieve new heights of hedonism,
 thumb our nose at death, cheat death,
 dance death with the grace of crystal
 & the charms of Solomon.
  It becomes survival of the fastest.
	We play chicken with a gun
 & magick is the bullet. 
 We are the torn remains of changes,
 dragged down fatalistic roads
 to predestined roles, 
swept along in the flux of this 
aeon of evolution.


VIII

	Fuck the lords of karma
 & their interest rate morality, 
fuck your behavior modification
 labor union mentality,
 fuck you & your system 
& your missions of mercy.
	Fuck your secret tribunals
 & your hometown sweethearts,
 fuck your working class 
& its cost of living adjustments,
 your regulatory commissions 
& your drug wars, 
fuck your religions 
& your compassion 
& your nights of prayer 
& your beef industry.
	Fuck your mother 
& brother & father & daughter,
 fuck wishing wells 
& greeting cards 
& fuck the ways we meet each other,
 fuck the World Wide Web 
& what you can get for a dollar.
	
Fuck your charts 
& tables 
& lenses
 & lasers 
& your nuclear half-life of 90 some years.

  Fuck your local area network servers
 & your fax machine hookups 
& your e-mail ideologies. 
 Fuck Wall Street 
& downtown 
& Capitol Hill 
& all who walk its hallways,
 fuck I-90 
& I-70
 & HWY 666,
 fuck the whole goddamn mess we live in…

	We got the BOMB! 

(talking bout my generation)




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if you were offended, you probably shouldn't read that again because it will say the same damn thing