THE SIXTH BOUROUGH

like wolves. like smoke. like the rest of the fucking world.

October 24, 2011

double feature.

I hate myself for not being more active about this. When I lose my desire to write permanently, I'll have no one to blame but myself.

Here's something about not wanting to be here.

smoke.

like smoke,
i travel wherever the wind
decides to take me.
and those winds of change
that were once so strong:
the very ones that brought me here
have never truly left since that day.
and like the gusts they are
they don’t just creep up;
they don’t fucking let up;
and they won’t fucking shut up
until i’m all shut up.
all locked up
in my neat, little casket
nestled deep in a grave i made
one i dug and decorated
the one place i’m comfortable enough
to stay.

-
And one about NATO. (big surprise).
As if I'd let Gadhafi die and not bitch about it on here. Sheesh.
-

war machine

generator generated
three strikes on its last outing,
and without a doubt
this will be the finest doubting
we’ve ever ousted.

hand-picked pictorial,
end-all of end-all editorials.
nobody questions
requests from all to stop shouting;
at least no one did.

survivors salivating
walls red, they’re repainting,
building buildings
in hopes of rebuilding that old thing;
they built a prison.

prisoners picturing
a pillow under the mess we made
always assuming
there’s something to be doing;
it’s been done.

sprockets spinning,
the machine is up and running.
infinitely idling
in hopes of finding someplace new
to crash and burn.



Listen to more NIN.
-dalton.