Satiety Takeover

Oh, fine disgust retold within this intricate weave. The dust of forgetting without forgiveness. Blessed rejoicing by your reluctant cartilage. Those dumb receivers and pluralist senders of feedback. The backhanded compliment jossers moving up the rank and filed garbage heaps of credited manicured success. Oh, what a stench. The repetition of humdrum and baby making. The long hours of idiosyncrasies between Pop. The search for individualism tethered to hearsay. The politics of boring and child like imagination of truth. Our heart bearing sleeves of duplicity made of shining armor and daydreams. The fait accompli of a game of telephone. Of the selling of solicitude to thyself. Sneaking in tongues. Staring at freaks. Destroying all monsters. Counterfeiting the lie. Establishing oneself prominent, well versed, quantifiable, and unrehearsed. The belief that he himself has not picked sides. To say we know suffering without empathy. To gloat in the face of the sick and dying. To take no association with death out of fear, and to fear not and not not ever being known as being. Oh, the confusion of all those set free, set forth, and true.
Oh, yes…Poor you.
Those who seem deemed to pick up each task with gun at head to compartmentalize the wheel. Mouse trap. The pulley. Then, force themselves to stand straight, bold faced and dry. To be the wolf you cry for all to run away from. To lead onto nothingness and know everything under the sun. To speak in headlines, irreversible decision making, leading on history with self interest in mind. To self humbling and choosing ones own punishment. For white crimes, white lies, white deals in the dark. To the tax break pushers with rancorous blind eye on one side, all sides, and no sides. For the prostitution of misery. The sea change of friendship. The honesty of the surface. The unflinching who cares! The vineyard’s year of bitter whine of being proven wrong. The ethicalness of freedom and dumbness of domination. The jealousy of want. The lunacy of reputation. The fortitude of right. The wrongness of trust. The reducing from absurdities. The reverse of misfortune. The language of the unsung and uninteresting. Whom stay long distance in times of devastation. To commandeer at threads end. To bare the burden of hopelessness before calling it a night. To go home. To have a home. To cable television and books on politics. Rotting leftovers in the fridge. Those self-proclaimed great men and sterile women harping law driven ego. For functionless amenities gathering dust in stale arguments night after night. To the polemics of scratch people patting heads. The sun rising wherever they say it does. The lobotomized unknowingness of place or function. To cocker spaniel syndrome! To new words. To those still breathing art adulterated. Seething compassion into rust. To the eyes which never wander in the face of an enemy and give all they have to bare with tongue limply planted in cheek. To the resplendent glitter of life and the wages of sin staying death. To commercialized slavery in constitutional buried loops of equities. Concentric circulatory advice from black-eyed souls spitting up in dirty hands. The rapture of money and conformity of giving up. Staying down. Gathering fleas in a castle of sand. For the basic consumption of these necessities never running dry. The socialization of the bourgeois pointing fingers as trick. The selling of sickness turning on itself. The fly right’s and straight and narrow’s never questioning their guilt. The association of matter. The pistol packing porn closet of the moral preaching hypocrite “bound and committed by its own atrocities”. The stolen lyrics of the thought provoking pariah anguished by love. The sentimental users dumbfounded by the undead. With all sense unraveling. With all things ever known crumbling beneath their feet. The human condition solidified in amber, housing live rounds of wordless ammunitions, peered under microscope by spoiled brats. The horizon being natural course. The flit-flam of rudiment mongrels mashed-up in near life experiences for the comic relief of those who can’t help, but always understand.
THANK YOU!