You're not dumb.
You're not blind.
You know what you see.
You're not half as weak
as they claim you to be.
So Speak.
Speak your mind.
Be free.

Why give away your only chance?
The emperor's in his underpants.
Destroyed by father's impotence.
I should not be the one shouting.

Another news agency
Is reporting only "controversy."
Do you have no faith in democracy?
What are these words I'm shouting?

What is this compulsion,
toward what fills me with revulsion?
Should I find a new emulsion?
Or just carry on my shouting?

Humanity and democracy,
was that all just a dream to me?
I can't unsee what I have seen.
I'll—shout about it or something.

I'll probably go away now.
Head buried high up in a cloud,
No more room, or time for doubt,
but maybe just a little— shouting...

He knows your desires.
He know your hopes and dreams.
He knows that you know
He is not what he seems.

Your hope is so great,
you will not see his smirk.
When he winks at your faith,
you will take him at his word.

When reality serves
his unsavory dish,
Know you have been
as deceived as you wish.

Until I look I'm happy
And then, y'know... I see.

It's so much nicer without
that shallow corporate "squee".

The diatribe of private dictators
so self-servingly

Proclaiming that their failure is
the fault of their employee.

Their mistake is in the hiring
of those who will not sip

That rancid, unappealing
Kool-aid fed by drip.

Can you show me
The only way?
Do you know it?
Can we go
Together?
Is it heaven today
When it rains forever?

To true believe
Consciously,
I sleep under
Hypocrisy,

And wonder.

Hypocrisy
Make a fool of me.

And the good will acting,
Acting selfishly,
And the boulder rolling,
rolling, falling.

No real desire,
But to push again.
The myth of nihilism.
Where all I find is much
too much.

Then what is this call?

I need another name,
but "God".
Of "Him" I cannot drink.
Or "death drive", or "entropy",
Or a "sharp wave cascade",
Or the "heat death of the universe"
Theory.

Belief.

Hypocrisy.

Name yourself "Truth"
to mask your lies.
Claiming none can see
without your eyes.
You fear to face inward,
so in words you hide.
But blatant analogy
reveals your disguise.

Why do I only trust _ ?
Metaphor obscures,
Aesthetic dilutes
intent.

In summer’s garden witness:
A brightening twine,
Along with elder brother,
Two bees fighting.

There,
a battle seemed unnatural.

Toiled once in unison,
But here they tousled.
Buzzing.

Hive and Harmony.
Discordant.
Buzzing.

Efferent corbiculae,
Of twelve legs,
Of a thousand eyes.

A brightening twine.
Two bees fighting.

Their
battle is unnatural.