Starve fasces-brandishers who predicate
Authority from appetite to lead.
Uproot the system bred to overfeed
Flush priests of law whose acts emaciate
The restive body of we third estate,
Condemning propaganda of the deed
By terrorists like Johnny Appleseed.
We must invoke our right to eat the state.
Roast those who'd charge an honest cannibal
For planting liberal teachings to displace
The syndicate, and share economy.
Fire up the cult of the imperial
And ration insurrectionary grace
Ample for all to feast on anarchy.
I'm fighting grind-split tooth and peeled nail
Against all my selves I call other.
Veiling mortal wounds with gossamer,
I claim romantic identities
Falsely, with sinister abandon.
Coiling ever inward and away,
I withdraw me from poor reflections;
From glaring eyes betrayed and pooling
Tar melting down from scorched railroad ties
Strewn alongside deserted highways.
I run again home to a cold box:
Fluorescent orange light grating down eyes
To dull accessories, who abet
Escape to asylum in wombing
Safety of echoing monologue.
Reason rides to mind a snake oil savior
To colonize my nobler instincts.
Blood-choked and complacent, I'll deny
My proudest breaths were spent defending
Glass towers of an empty castle.
Rend all your erstwhile double-tongued pharaohs.
Cast out inner sycophantic slaves.
Lay civil barriers to ruin.
Surrender to grave knowledge of self.
An irrational animal gets high
From the ravenous pump of its own tongue,
Nursing wounds of a disease untreated.
His fat meat skulks through marbled corridors
Around eyes that assign value to worth,
Fixated on transactions to be paid.
The ring and flash of victory courses
Through his silken veins and opens his mouth
To swallow the pride of the defeated
Reflection in a puddle of his own
Drool, clinging shakily from toothless dogs,
Addicted to the peak and crash of trade.
This century spins wilder than prior gyres,
Racing backward, ever more efficient and spectacular,
The weather today, like every day, is
Immense and incomprehensible.
Election week is soon, and the Salv-nation Party candidate
Would like to remind voters of the Party of the Mysterious Robe's Mysteriousness.
Representatives for the PMR gave no comment.
****** digital performer @JezebElsa
Went viral with her leaks. #HollywoodNewz
An impressive number of people we know
Demand justice for all registered unrepentant killers.
A Meteor landed not ironically atop Selfiecomplishment Summit early this morning,
Injuring only the most dedicated hikers.
Confirming folklore, the Meteor disappeared once photographed.
Don't go out trying to find it.
However, you may still purchase a tincture of the liquid it contained
From us at OrganicH2.Org.Headfeed.com
No meteorologists were harmed.
Us vs. Terror: Terrorwatch!:
The Monsters we've been ignoring
Have taken the City and consumed the last of
An informative poem.
A shapely shifting goddess for thee.
The king is folded - now is your chance.
Take nothing you need. Lend none of your heed to arms with no hands.
Crave and call your heart's ****** pounds.
With thin air streaming under your feet.
Your echoing **** rings guilty and gilded ears in the street.
To warn them that their idol's collapsed.
Deflated gods erupt from the hills.
Rich lava bleeding through but not ceding to men's fragile wills.
Ready yourself for controversial glory.
Set free the heavy hearts of those who can't flee
Go write something wrong or heal with a song the eyes that won't see.
A fast poem.
From one end of a sea, I waved to you
And carried it with me out to purlieu.
Over desertous thirst. It sank me through
A mermaid's con: rehearsed to drown on cue.
It reverbed off radars who threw it off course,
Who clash out; Who say our sound invokes force.
Who translate our call to a crime; (perforce);
Who trained us to fall, then harbor remorse.
I wait still in oceans for your wave back.
I wave me free from fear of dinful attack.
I got it all up here, should they lose track.
But I'm anchored still, -- slow, should you wave back.
A frustrating poem.
A star with night between her teeth; a girl
Staggers a dance of seven heels, less six.
Cues strewn along her route: a pin, a pearl,
A tired, ****** queen a-lean on bricks.
Though under veil of spotlight she makes sway,
No trace of rule remains on head or feet.
Each sunset swallowed before birthing Day
To toss to sirens feeding in the street.
Nocturnal vagrants fever dreaming deep
Her cafe consorts, seeking but a friend.
Mascara floods downstream where ducklings sleep,
So get her to a bed and to an end.
And though low trolls will ever tweet her shame
Each morning's jay will always sing her name.
A hot mess of a poem.