flow free

the pain of purpose
is to move forward
in spite of it

a trained intellect is
only as strong as the
books you teach

our language is broken-
shards of words strung together
with sticky tape

i'm afraid this is as good as it gets

the puke is dried to
our chins
and flakes at the edges
and the man in the suit
talks the spit
and our sick heaves
where it belongs

i'm afraid we have gone far too far

the telephone is a part of
our head,
attached by strings to
the center of
our grudgefuck
reasoning

we have the bends
and the blood trickles
from the ears onto
whitewashed
floors
previously soiled
by our leaking
genitalia
through erotic
slideshows
intended to keep
us sleeping

i'm afraid you're afraid too

the creeps
keep
making up
new ways
to reinvent
the old ways
and turn our
stomachs like
dime store
lollipops
laced with
viruses
cooked up
in our own
water treatment
plants

they're making
us sick
with the
commercials
and the
complaints
and the
grinding nerves
boiled in wash buckets
filled with chemical
erotic asphyxiation
to calm all that ails you

i'm afraid we are the new drug

making ourselves high
on misinformation
to turn us
away from
the real news
and if they
splatter up
enough
bullshit,
we'll believe in
almost anything

how they get you
is by
pretending
they haven't
got you
at all

the words
get broken up
and become
something else
entirely
the words
are dying
by the hand
of our greatest
statesmen
our words are
tongue fucked
whores
making
mouth noises
while their cunts
are pacified
our words are too
tame
too restrictive
to let
the puke flow
freely