while watching naked lunch I

everything is here to be written again there is no secret lozenge to suck away the taste of medocrity. Cut yourself with baby laxitive and theory the shit of a thousand raised for food cattle stampede left a stuffiness in the streets hot, breathe a shadow, exhale the spiders web god ambulance love is the hatred of the game. it cleans the grown, the show me why here I am alone and alone I am again. Should the sincere blame the visionary for thier failure to lose belief? "You're not making any cents" and it's back out on the street "people want to relate to you" byte and byte wasted, I'm unrelated Far enough. Start your mission, stand three high, blame the sanctity make the fist, stare into the shadows, smell the faces blow from memory, blow the censor, the hard wall down like wolf, behind which the moving, lurking it moves clones splices there flesh, mongrel race curls across tentacles left scorpion-tailed in the black heart FUCK IDIOT STREAMING SHAT OUT SCREAMING FLAT OUT MEANINGLESS sick sick It's poetry, it's bullshit, if fucking junky words are blasphemey to the corporatocracy can't sell it, can't give it away, poets-Fuck you artists-Fuck you Lawsuits, bread crumbs, soup lines, I drank your weight in god cock, I ran my fingers across the spines of a thousand mouldering hymnals and blasphemed, blasphemed, blasphemed. (I would rather stick my tongue deep in the willing quim than dream your sin again) Nothing will out, there is no thing about to stop this railroad derail road derail There is no extreme left not codified, not comodified, no commodity untainted by greed And the sickness Black Marketeers of World War Three Fuck the artist! Osteopaths of the spirit Fuck the artist! Officials of Unconstituted Police States Fuck the artist! I yellow, the mere presence of blue would incite jealousy. Red was more harmonious, less constructive - persona is colour, moving cultures, blood blue, through and through. no mongrel race this blood tone deaf theoritical nazi grammar incites, this yt is yellow on the inside smell my through and through the opiated blue bottle tree leaves fall these walls creep with spaces inbetween our every moment stands out sincere. tainted. a green gluon spun right round there's strange and upswing and up and down and charm left alarming - the world of inbetween is over. Haven't you heard? We're reinventing wheels the atomic landscape our motherfucking bitch boy It's all a sham, there's masks, plastics, toys, faces left isolated, thoughts constructed in passing, there is no guilt, nothing to fear, death is the last greatness we afford in passing, shadows leave the body of light in stark contrast, slough off this too solid core and ride silent, against the night