Interstice travellin’, oracular spatterin’, expanding the masculine
Myths married to the land we’re in, begin dissecting
Restless legs want to step to the next thing
Deem terms turgid, flirt with the pluperfect then plunge it
Alert twerps to their complicity in sinister circuses
Panopticons sing songs
& wrong is that which capitalistic traps have systematically kept cloth-clad ants from enacting
Prisoners of language
Concepts make their conquest with each birth of a life that proves of small consequence
Self-flagellate the contest, from concave to convex
Even the most strong necks will break under the weight of a planet
& we stand it as the hand can gladly take legs
A man is a dreg & can be replaced, a mindset neglects the mind behind his face
But also forgets the space, where we can foster what festers
A monster more great
Decomposition then disintegration
The state is indoctrination so we must be patient, lie low & latent
For the only way in is to begin at the foundations
Evolution not revolution
To give weight to the paradigm is the true pollution
To push against the ceiling only makes the ceiling lower, but that doesn’t mean I’m saying staying frozen is a goer
But that we don’t know a life where spirit isn’t mown down by fear means that all I can try to do is get you to look over here
Heed the priest’s yammering, vernacular hammering, Dracula’s fangs dig in
Feast on spectacular barriers to nourishment
& to bleat back at the sheep only gives the shepherd encouragement
Seas churn, turbid verses burst with the assertive
But swerve to preserve unhurt their deserved perches
To subvert is unnerving to kings, to blur versions will stir the conned dominion
& his citizens mustn’t lose trust in him
“Disseminate the connotations!”, consolidations are easier to smash
Opinions so established & brash can be bombed atomically
Spotted insurrectionists each have rebellion on their wrists
But assembling the many fists means between the gaps anything can act as mist
Many things distract: a kiss, promises of a nine to your six, knowledge vomited verbatim from brains made of sick
Your taint gets a lick, your righteous rage deftly pinched like a candle’s wick
‘Under erasure’ erased from your list of words
Fantasias spurned for the cock nocturne
Authenticity mightn’t exist, but like Sherlock’s shit you know when you’re lying
Shorter breaths show you’re slowly dying
Torrid tongues tell tyrannical tales trampling cells, selling Hell as an idyll of nonpareil
Infidels shelled for even envisioning its farewell
Mould sold as gold while old guilds still have hold
Dark oligarchies march onward, stalwarts of a fading age
Already awakening are the sparks of its decay