89-09

we are the
MASTERS OF A UNIVERSE
in
our so called tussel between war and machine
motor oil reality
slowly moving
black holes and animal blood...between knees
we
breed..
breathe...
we need no robots

we ARE already zombies

consumerisum propoganda orgy...a mesopotamia for those above the status faction
a satus faction to know my kids have drawn their glamourus weapons
there all art supplies and musical instruments.
this is a conciece apocolypse for those involved in it
a social uproar for those in the trenches
I stand alone in this gutter of greed
"he is a lone wolf with many enemies."
I wear a headress of feathers...I them gathered from the angels who sleep with me
when ever they get a chance at least...
mentally and physically drained from the TRUTH...the love...I now see
and hold dearer to me then any thing ive ever believed.
young master,
THESE 3 FISTS BREAK HEARTS AND PUT THOUGHTLESS KIDS TO SLEEP IN PAVED PARKS.
our suburban war in highschool was a few homeless and the lower class humbums
the city jail had never been so full of heart and hussle
yet,
Ive never reflected on the fields of grass where I slept those infant years
giving my tip money to them...only to see them ghost into the night
only laughter when you convery that hurt to your friends
no understanding
with those girls and boys you were sure youd spend the rest of your life with until you left.
then again...
You never know when your ex girl friends skull is going to get crushed
your best friends life gets stolen
and mikes heart just stopped
so cherish those adolescent fears
their always coupled with tears.
just like all our parents revealed.

now my 12th grade english teacher sleeps comfortable that a man isnt crying himself to sleep in a parking lot
under the bridge.
she sleeps easy in the thought that I havent been on her television screen
or her cereal box...
she sleeps sound knowing that she taught her kids morals and value...how to help out a fellow man...a good christan one of course.
she reflects though...on that fucker with the long blonde hair who sat high in the back of the class room..the one that the teacher he never had let teach her class..
the one that wasnt in a single school activity
and she asks
"why couldent he just have been like the rest."

so I ask

why would an educator even dream like that.