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Devoted horde
Dramatization of a knot
I’d like to see the birds in the garden or at least hear them
After waking early or late, real ones or even a simulation
When birdies were all over right out of my bedroom, one valued not so,
And yet hummingbirds had their drinking platforms in the garden
Garden of another, erased from my path
Off my presence,
Ordinary working people
Lost plants of sycophants
Although trash keeps smelling my devious path always one pace behind and two moves ahead
Those quiet limbs seem not to divine the proper thread
This head hurts as any other fucker, the difference is my pussyish character
The yellowish fumes coming out a chimney which I don’t clean
Cause I’m a pig style unclean procrastinator
A motherfucker living in a social institution called mother town
Where no freedom is whenever wherever to be found
Not even that of trying to gain his life unperceived and anonymously
In an unverified attempt to regain some autonomy, or alter taxonomy
Fuck me in the morning fuck me pumps, show me death and decay
Explain how success leads to health and control over one’s destiny
Explain the importance of this solitude, Jack of all trades
Mutiny
Will inevitably lead to deep unavoidable shit
Bake me cook me show me how to bend to fortify back muscles
Tire me with tons of stress
Don’t give me time to guess
If there is a reason to be,
Or not, because that’s an old question
And we are all long past that inglorious point
The point is a ton of money
The rule of measure
Master of sex appeal, nucleus of any deal
The substance informing human will
Sadly although I may love all things that money can buy
My indolence and fear of failure has lead me to this point
The Capetown of lost Krugerrand no land
Thee, burial of Oedipus Rex
Fall of Clytemnestra
Error of Cassandra,
Broken sword of Alexander
Mad persecuted unsettled portuguese salamander
A thing that difficulty walks and cannot wander
Much less act quickly or react in real time Fictitious earner of anything, even a dime.
Closed business, anachronism of a lost time
Unfaithful to women, refusal of fatherhood
Fictitious beater of mother, alleged spankler of wives
Eater of puppies, peeler of cats, hot killer of innocent
The case of bad content
Should be buried in some ordinary basement
Covered with low quality cement in life
So one day that bad scent would led to the uncovering
And revive this story erected in glory,
So that
For the sake of children, public mental health
All his alimonies kept secret so such ordinary life and ludicrous failure
Cannot influence any more losers that wouldn’t work or contribute
To the hail Mary blues and sacred oeuvre of mankind the horde devoted to afford
Long live Kapital, kampari to gin, a sake after an anime
Versus the power of clips, get energy from red bull
Leave the rest to those who died
Perform like chondrite is nanite based tech
But not the unconquerable shore of my sobriety
Sadness
Madness
Ungratefulness
Futility made obscenity
Heat breaking, if you believe in such Romantic nonsense as the spirit of time praises and keeping yet cultivating ‘emotional intelligence’ of cognoscente
Ferrari practicality denies
Picturesque dark tainted crymson smell of defeat
Is every single praise or joy, every adoration, every smile regarding the little big things that really matter in this Blink of an existence we lead is kept undone
Painful is the realization
Transparent clarity of acting contra natura
Against my true good nature
Defiling all axioms and philosophical principles of my interiority
Occulting light and kindness
As a lost enterprise of not done and die
Cause money is the name of the game of do or die
The beauty innocence and kindness of children
Stimulating talk, vertigo of intimate touch, content of embrace
Dwarfing sights of mother earth
Sacred places of human belief
Intense calm of areas devoted to grief
Never ceasing rhythm of music
Joyful unbalanced balance of dance
Tantalizing views of substance induced states
All that makes us human, even that thing called work that I labour hard to avoid
All and more and muchamore
Are the hidden lines of the lore erected as surreal folklore
Beauty and me
Or should it be harmony and I
Why?
Aren’t you gonna regret it O harmony
Never having been capable of habiting me?
Wagner style shield-maidens chants echoes roaring
Over
Apocalyptic plumbiferous thunderbolt crossed ceilings
Little gremlins wearing SM cyan outfits over crimson Tattooed butts
Sit over complex drums speeding the world
The lyrics are in a beautiful incomprehensible language
As we take our step by step deconstruction of thee
It will only remain the void disponibility of your vacuity
Is that refraining useful and for whom?
Or it only will lead to be forgotten in vain?
How come not to join humanity, break the chain
Of my passive hostility in a partnership with a prolific destiny?
All around me the powers that be
Have their all seeing eye on me
And I, still unconvinced, walk the pier of unfulfilled dreaming
Blindly nubilous to all this inevitability
