from bed, despite all the rage…

tender age

wrapped in a cage

i’m sitting in a king sized bed trapped by rage

oh, poor me

images, laying complicit, forcing myself to absorb every still-photo cycled, recycled, history’s nest incubated reminders, we need to thrash the dark parts of humanity, rip them to shreds, when babies cry “papa” in silver marathon beds

disassemble the fragments

destroy this age

no need to seek

it’s barreling down

unmasked

emotion-beat faces of those who consistently play straight, yah, the ones he calls fake, can’t help tear-drop reality, as they struggle to speak what was spoke by breaking-voices rushing in their numb right ears

“excuse me? what’s that? are you kidding me? i have to share what?”

“we’re live”

i know

living

we lost this hand, gave it away

tears stream into artificial color blends, now presentable, a tell

humanness

hurry up, deal the cards

you know what?

fuck it

have the chips, cash them in, stick it in your neighbors wife, we’re done

my poetics are failing me

anger controlling me

stacking up reasons there’s nothing i can do, we talk about the jew, after…

weak minded bosses who use diseased shit for brains thought process to take over society, ahhh, you fucks!

how many “h’s” do you use to demonstrate screaming through clenched teeth?

bowels released in my bed from pressure dread inculcating my heart, core, and head

being polite needs to end

upend

fuck you who are still calm and reasonable

cooler heads get frost bitten, left unable to make their mouths malleable enough to whisper

“stop”

drop and roll

they’re a fire, inhaling timber down mountainsides once hailing purple majesty

that’s their color now

royalty

red and blue fused, knot tied ideology, hues overtaken, mistaken, conjoined

copywriting the slogan on the back of our coin

of no value, inflated hearts pop, moral markets crash

trade in your blank stares and candy bar cares

‘cause

“this could be awhile”

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