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.


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.

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