the year is two thousand and fourteen and something isn't right
maybe it's related to the fact that there is no more history on the history channel
and the only thing the discovery channel wants to investigate
is the depth of our bank accounts
the word 'integrity' has become archaic. obsolete. unnecessary, simply, because nobody has any anymore.
whatever happened to learning for the sake of learning?
who was the sick greedy ******* who decided that it was okay to charge money for knowledge?
our youth are being put into ******* for the knowledge necessary to survive in this society
of inequality.
in the 21st century slaves toil away in classroom as well as coal mines.
and those who dare to resist the path of post-modern peonage laid before them are doomed to a life of minimum wage mundanity or constant criminal risk.
there is something to be said about the quality of our reality if we are constantly seeking mind altering substances to escape it.
i too have become a slave. and a large portion of those who read this message have as well.
our souls signed away at the dotted line, sealed within great paper phylacteries adorned with the sinister sigils of Sallie Mae.
the chains of our debt will never let go of us. even upon death our progeny will have to hoist our burdens on their shoulders.
and for those of you who know not of our *******, i bid you welcome, like a Brother greater than I once said:
"welcome to the united snakes, land of the thief, and home of the slave. the grand imperial guard, where the dollar is sacred and power is god."
if your total net worth rests below a cool few million i suggest you stay away.
silly me. silly me, silly me, silly me. after all this country was built on generation after generation of genocide, **** and fraud, codified into the laws we hold so tight and so high, how naive was i to even expect civil discourse and equality from a naturally sinister state?
cloaked in the fog of pure ignorance we the people paradoxically bear the weight of our fraudulent federal government on our backs while simultaneously parasitically depend upon it.
parapets and gaudy domiciles all built with the blood sweat and tears of the disenfranchised. soft music composed of the screams of children dying from predator drone hellfire missiles lilts through the hallways.
news flash: the illuminati and the reptilian overlords are not trying to control your mind.
this is not about pineal gland calcification and third eyes but about the systematic disenfranchisement and subjugation of every man woman and child in this unfortunate nation.
they impose harsh sentences on small time drug crimes and outsource our only sources of economic stability.
left with no upward mobility, we then resort to any means necessary to simply survive.
'the world is your oyster.' they say. and they conveniently fail to mention the fine print which emphatically states that you may only possess the oyster shucking knife if you are white, male, and upper middle class.
this is not about checking privilege and white guilt. this is about the way that this ****** up world works. about the sinister cogs turning behind the scenes.
and if you dare raise your voice in resistance you'll find yourself staring at cinderblock walls, spools of barbed wire, reinforced steel bars, and armed guards for the rest of your sad life. your enclosed inmate existence making the coffers of the prison-industrial complex even deeper.
some say we should raise our fists instead and fight. and i say to them good luck fight the world's most technologically advanced military in its own home territory. Guerilla warfare and armed millitias stand about as good of a chance and gorillas armed with sticks and stones when the enemy possesses satellites that can see your face from orbit.
and i hope you don't mine being despised by the public of the modern world when you're slapped in the face with that dreadful catch-all term that is 'terrorist'.
but we can't just sit here and let the vines of greed asphyxiate our vitality away.
so herein lies the eternal question that i pose to you:
what are we to do?
this is my first attempt at a slam poem