I wore a Bush/Cheney '04 shirt
from a thrift store
to an upper level history class
on election day 2012
Professor and classmates stared
scared to talk to me

I never explained
that in 2004
I was the only Democrat
on my hick town bus

And now look who's in office?
No one even dares
wear that red hat in jest
For the right co-opted irony
as their latest prize

'merica:
Either your genuinely
hyper patriotic to absurdity
or you're an enemy

When we are alone together
I feel this immense connection with you
Like our souls instantly unite upon contact
Feelings overwhelm every one of my senses
I'm not used to this much emotion
I sometimes can't believe it
We could talk for hours on end about
How the systems we live in ruin the world
Or we can lay in silence
Embracing each other and the moment
Either way I am beyond happy
Whether feeling suffocated by the state we live in
Or climbing through nature freely
I can't imagine this situation with anyone else
Because I love this
And I love you

she binds with her eyes,
restrains break with gleaming  smile;
love's sweet anarchy!

There's **** on the floor of the Blue Line.
It's one in the afternoon,
Tuesday.

This is the poetry
I don't like writing.

About the Fight Club anarchism
without the sense of purpose.

I watch a man cry
over a woman's leftover Chipotle.

Eight feet away:
the passage of pills between palms.
I don't know the contents
any better than they do.

I keep my blind eye
and loose change.

I keep my middle class pride
safe for another day.

What has your son become?
What is a man but another hole,
Wanting and needing the world,
Does your son want for anything?

Monsters crawl and hide in shadow,
Is your son a creature of the night?
Does his heart bleed for the wanting?
Does nothing fill his nothing and bring him..

Nothing...

Did they take everything?
Did they take everything from me?

Welcome to the Sindicate
Of utter stupidity
Where all tactile contact
Is inhibited by the puny mind

You are a villain
Of these modern times of change
In primal times
How I would have deranged
Your features
Like the animal within me
Tells me so

To take justice into my own hands
Hone it like never before
Then plant it
Into your ridiculous behind

Then maybe some sense will grow
Instead of spewing idle catchphrase
When all wisdom has  escaped
From your old diuretic mind

Then maybe you will see
Beyond your need for controversial
Lust for simple power
Over the sheep you fail to herd

To manipulate the many
Your voice must be heard
But its pointless tribulation
When all around you curd
At your arrogance

Now the freshly programmed
Atmosphere turns at the smell
Of your ***** discussion
Riddled with moth *****

Slurring all the ignorance
You can muster in one
Uninformed, uncontemplated instant
Which has roused the warrior
So I may slay this fool

Only to stop the cringe of colleagues
As they put up with your impertinence
How I wish that all intelligence
Did not exist for a time

So that all the grime that lies within me
Can swallow you whole
So you may have a taste of darkness
To counteract the light
That shines
Out
Of
Your
***

a ****** of crows gathers
over Hamburg, carrion carrying on
with business as usual.
feeding on the festered flesh
of a gentrified populace.

in private jets coughing carbon
they fly from the west on turbine wings,
engines screaming as they dive towards a nation
secured by razor-wound walls
and barb-wire borders.

they pitched a battle in Germany,
convinced that austerity
would ******* the resistance
and give justification to premeditated violence.
but the tables have turned on the thieves again.

we are the end result of your failed policies,
globalization has destroyed our homes.
if your cabal rallies like a kettle of vultures,
you will do so behind closed doors,
cowering in your fortress' halls.

you shall not pass. watch as the power shifts
like the melting gears of torched BMWs.
we will tear the vestiges of your authority down.
we will black out your surveillance cameras,
smash your windows, and block your limos. no pasaran.

flee, while you can still run. this city belongs
to the wild ones, a black bloc, thousands strong,
dancing amidst the tear gas, tossing molotovs.
marching to liberty's sturdy drum,
equal in our solidarity song.