the vegetable mind witnesses nothing from the rolled-up newspaper other
than that reinforcement of punishment whapped across the nose, doled out
by a bipartisan systemic infection betraying the respect between the
senses, and forcing the average person to take sides… the breakdown of
good versus evil, i suppose, in one of those diminutive political
analogies administered by maniacal zealots until the whole thing goes
‘poof’… dissected sinister leanings as cancer becomes the side effect of
capitalism, all the waste and the tender bits flushed into the same
cesspool, and the atrophied martyr swill that corrects us in our pacing
back and forth… made to beat the awful natural world down, enlightenment
shining through the twisted idols washed in a babe’s blood, and the
monitor defines the living objective view to those watching indifferent
to the struggling they are thankfully outside of… the fear in
advertising is projected to simulate truth, to make the mind wonder
where there are gaps in this seamless continuity otherwise… to say that
no one still cares would be redundant, and although quite true, by no
means the end of the argument… even the painted faces lie through their
teeth, hissing between the plates of a dread-full mask, and with a voice
of sinister longings pushing to fuck the others’ control… there is no
opinion for poetry just as there is no worth in art, but for those that
can ‘see’, their own imagination can mean far more than simple
brushstrokes on canvas… the subconscious horizon line fades as the
setting becomes grey with the chill night air, and the bright dreams
explode and display such unbridled hate towards your loved ones, there
is only regret at being the bastard… without all the expletives deleted
are we left insane?…
