I traveled through lush greens
mountains of moss, sinking soft
wild in the woods you went
swooped and flew
singing songs
of blue water
of morning colors
in the light of sun
with dreams of moon
my bird.

I am counting things
at night numbers, dreams
hum of a hundred bells
soft harps to soothe
sweet with birds colored blue
in the tiger grass, big eyed cats
twitchy whiskers and paws
they sleep beneath tree limbs
branches wild and gnawed.

Do not wake me
while the garden is glowing
a thousand flowers in rows
I am fixed on violets
hydrangeas indigo blue
with fingers I paint thick
brick in red rose variants
on the lawn peacocks in resplendence
with monde blue-green iridescence
and a million gypsophila clouds pass by.

How can I follow up?
Sipping tea, realizing my dark age in the ides
of March was just a melancholic cover up for
intensive art and getting **** done
"Adulting," I hate that word
We can learn so much from having a child-like nature
But they got you coping with drudgery by
coddling you in comic book imagery
Is your boss your dad that gives you play time or
a **** that's increasingly stealing more of your time, and money?

Stand up if you have the energy
The old don't protest cause
they got nice pensions from FDR and Mao Zedong
We're still the ever lazy young
with distinctive wealth gaps
not seen in a couple generations
It's a grim calculation by cold algorithms
as if that absolves the humans that
put the spirit of the questions into them

How much can we make them work so
they don't have time to protest but can still survive?

We've already stopped the pensions but
how can we stop social security?

It's been well invested
can we really just say the money's run out?

Yes, I suppose they really do believe anything
if you couch it right

Good work everyone.

2 Drinks
1 Bowl (except weekends)

Take care of your teeth
Eat a fruit and vegetable

I'm sick of feeling stuck in a vestibule
trapped in your armoire
Can't stop searching through your chest of drawers

Looking for reasons not to escape
I worked hard to get here
I just want to sit on my deck
drinking coffee, fernet, and beer
but I'm too busy with my Winchester mansion
to ever settle

Don't know how to avoid gaping emptiness so thoroughly anymore
when mowing grass seems to be my biggest problem anymore
I just don't have the energy
I'm too tired after a morning of forced psychic connections
with folks that would be strangers
if today we had our choice

Contrary to the pious coldness of our days
us well meaning folks need to realize
it takes grace and tact to deceive and to be deceived
Like playing with a child or a dog
you turn a ball, and just a ball
into a big game hunt

Without the deception that catches us,
the competition, the pageantry, and exaggeration,
we lose interest
We were never not children all along

This too is a game;
wearing plain suits and solely spectating sports
just to out adult each other
So rich men can golf and hunt
wolves from helicopters

I tip my hat to the contempt of corrupt government
but please don't mistake that as being against a collective good
I am an anarcho-socialist cause the proliferation of the individual is only possible in a welfare society
All you capitalist bootlickers will hustle yourself back to serfs
or worse
Where the noble few are the only ones to live free

Now they propagandize you with a promise
you can join their game and be a Capitalist too
Yet the unworking economic royalists
will not abdicate their thrones
So they want you to be grateful for all they provide
a chance to labor under them and be dazzled with distractions
which serfs of the past could never know
Slow economic mobility to a halt
They want a return to Victorian deference above all

I don’t play my mandolin everyday anymore,
let alone my guitar or tin whistles
I can’t let this die
I listened to 7 year old Japanese math rock
and want just a speck of that
An identity where I can sift right through
all this mediocre destruction all around
No one even has the gall to admit they’re killing
or the decency to even cover it up anymore
They videotape themselves dancing and
murdering kids for lebensraum
then turn around and say “no we’re not”

I’m tired of surface level house maintenance
followed by immobile phone scrolls
I’m looking for that lesson we’ll all learn
after finally going too far
I won’t play the victim or the hero no more
I did my part and now I’m too old
I need deeper art to escape samsara for good
and maybe that’s the best I can do comrades

I’m sick of details grown so scattered and thin
My whole past feels like entrails
smeared across vast desserts
There used to be rainforests here
but now it’s hard to find the pictures

Just when things almost get too competent and nice
they let decadence do its worse
out of fear that the improvements would make goods and services
too cheap not to be free
Socialism’s bad for business owners
so we lay off the workers and overcharge even more
Let the octogenarian billionaires buy up more water and air
to keep the fellas in the favelas gnashing and grim

Bunker complexes, spaceships, missiles coated in spent uranium;
these are all more important than starving children
Why do the poor keep having poor kids?
Still a conundrum
We gave them a chance to compete
some ephemeral time ago and they blew it
What can we do?
We tried to teach a man to fish…
Imagine Jesus Christ just giving folks fish and bread
for nothing in return?