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


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