I died,
When we died.

I hear that some have disposable income
Well it turns out my love is disposable
So where is the staple for them
I ask?

Aztec pyramids, it's all a great misunderstanding,
there's no tip on them they're flat at the top,
meaning there's a court being held,
i've read the modern European interpretation,
about how the Aztecs sacrificed people to their gods...
i think they got it all wrong, they're not exactly
the Giza grottos of ****** Pharaohs,
to me they represent buildings where capital
punishment took place, they were the Aztec world
scaffolds, honest, i can't believe the Aztecs thought
up astronomy and convened to sacrifice people
for a blood libel to get a good yield of crops...
western culture and astrology ring a bell?
sites of capital punishment... ripped a heart out
like the viking blood eagle and said:
could you love this heart / breathe in the same
elevator as this person? a resounding no from
the crowd below... if astrology / the horoscope is
still a practice in western society i can't believe
thee vogue interpretation of the Aztec practice of
sacrifice to the gods... esp. when you have a crucifix
with you as the sole justifiable sacrifice... bull-*******-****
(imagine the Kama Sutra off that...)
Aztec pyramids made more sense than their counterparts
the Egyptian tombs (yet again imagine
building skyscrapers with only one room in it),
the flat on the top meaning something was being convened,
something was being discussed, fear mechanism,
not a site of of sacrifice, but a site of capital punishment;
i've no proof (obviously), but i'm keeping my sanity
with what i just wrote.

Tarah has been working in Tesco as a cashier for 3 years,
i meet her every Monday, Friday, Saturday,
i'm actually a customer with a name rather than
a Tesco clubcard, less Auschwitz in the sphere of
what the corporations represent -
my grandfather went to Auschwitz twice,
second time he did a democratic poll,
he said 'i've been here once, second time i'll pass
and wait outside', a few joined him...
i'm not going, forget, no, no, no! i'm going to watch
a few horror movies instead, no fun thank you -
pharmacological diversions i mind, i don't need to
see any ovens other the ones were they bake pizzas
rather than cigarette ash.
so Tarah the cashier is this chubby (i like the sound
of the word, bubbly does her no justice) asian woman,
married, i'm guessing in her late 30s,
raven hair as is usual for blue indians (east, india)
and a nice auburn skin, so i compliment her:
'you're looking great tonight, sleepy but glowing',
then ask her how long she worked here, 3 years say
replies... what about the veterans?
20 YEARS she says... both our eyes widen with
goosebumps at the prospect -
and mind you, here's a little something you won't
here often...
                     you the English, skin heads and whatnot
"pigs", they use the word ****,
it's described as offensive, don't know why don't ask me
why, but here's something you missed,
the English are lazy with language sometimes,
****- is indeed their lazied sunday afternoon version
of Pakistani... stop being an *asian dub foundation
l'oréal advert careful for a psychological manicure, *****,
look at it, properly, and i'm not joking:
don't (do not), won't (will not), it's (it is)... ****-
(indeed just to make it obvious the hyphen is used)
is their shortening... can i also say pope Jean-Paul 2nd
dispersed the Poles? now that's offensive:
i end up saying Paul-leash to differentiate
pine scented polish. the plum bruise i just mentioned?
asian dub foundation's song oil from the album
tank... although i prefer la haine.

The soldier cleaned his gun in anticipation
for the battle he would be fighting. His mind

was focused on his job. His heart was centred
on his illusions. Lonely soldier in a uniform

without a mind of his own. His officers
received their orders from somewhere else,

from men and women who were fighting a
war of greed. Death was nothing more than

a statistic which would be tabulated and
toned down for the media. Not good to let

the world know the actual cost of human
life in the adventure. A tear fell from his

eyes at the thought of how many men he
had killed. He remembered sitting in his kitchen

talking to his wife and making plans for
the future. That was until somebody

somewhere far away had determined
the future was not his to plan. So he worked

at his task in mind of constant wonder at
the waste he was trained to create. His

entire purpose in life was to **** and so he
killed as best he could. The faces of the

enemy reminded him of himself. Other men
who had sat at home with their wives talking

about their futures together. Such a waste of
young ambition by the old men and women who

sat comfortable in the governments of life.
Lonely soldier surrounded by his comrades

all of whom equally trained to hate and ****.
Ah, but the bands would play and the magic

of hero dust would fall upon the shoulders
of the men at arms. How brave they would

be in the battle with their blood splattered
all over their clean uniforms. The soldier knew

he fought for a cause but it was odd that
the cause was never quite explained, save

for speeches on freedom and destruction
and illusions of happiness when the enemy

were all dead. Lonely soldier was startled by
an enemy as he cleaned his gun. The two

men glared at one another wondering who
would die first. Soldier and enemy came to

a major decision. Each stripped off their clothes
and stood naked in front of one another.

Two naked men. Without their uniforms.
Now which of them was the enemy?