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Stagger Lee Jun 2018
Tired of living in a false paradise of consumption,
suffering everyday our labored prostitution,
trade in your hours for a handful of scraps,
smile while your master puts the cigar out on your back,
this is the workers symphony,
aching joints, aching psyche,
smothered in whiskey to **** the pain,
our autonomous freedom we'll never regain,
slave till you die, laugh till it hurts, your meaning in life, to merely survive,
collect your checks week after week, creative minds stomped out, just smile and drink,
be a good slave except your fate,
it's just the way it is boy get back in your place,
we gravel in dispair, they spit in our face,
we waste our lives away,
on our hands and knees but we just smile and drink,
thinking about breaking these chains,
it's punishable by law,
authority laughs when you die slow for your keep,
with your eyes wide shut,
don't wake your slumber,  
it's all a bad dream,
just go back to sleep,
and forget life's blunder
cleann98 Jun 2018
in a world where
you stole      
the end days      
of my life      
and sold it back to me              
for half my whole...      
faith is a business              
for the opportunist                    
and hope for the                        
luxurious-----    
----my world----        
only a room                        
and a stage wide              
dying every morning                      
and revived every night                            
pole                    
after                  
pole                
      after        ­    
pole          
after      
pole    
  and yet still none could    
catch my fall.                      
  my world where
water is as scarce          
as dryness------                              
                     and sleep is abundant in supply            
as respite is bursting in demand            
and love is a capitalist.
lol remember vanessa from deadpool?
Akemi May 2018
spoke through the fire
we rode babylon 999
like school children making for the intersection
a horn blared
triumphant screech of capital
and we tumbled through the air
the last image reflected in our eyes
coca-cola no sugar

at the horizon of sleep
the empty palm of war stretches indefinitely
a profit-margin rounding the ennui of
all our profane martyrs and saints

history wreathed in the thorns of labour
the mistletoe we ****** beneath
putrid, damp, abject
mirror-images of our parents

and under the skylight of the mall
i found in you a whistling hole
where all the birds caught within
choked.
the dead spaces, the lacunae, the interstices; the lies of flight, the coded circuits, the fascism of totality; we fell into one another as the sun died, our teeth crumbling like concrete through city hollows, the dying moments of a future we never had; stolen dreams of necrophilic capital; so we ****** in the burning wreckage of a hundred dollar car, and wished the bourgeoisie of this world to hell, ******* hell, ******* hell.
calvin schafer May 2018
Hey copper bullet tell me where ya gona fly.
Used for target practice or to make another mother cry?
Hey copper bullet whats the sense of your creation?
To **** another young man
to make us a prouder nation?
Hey copper bullet are you used for self defense?
But wasn't it you who had jumped over the fence?
Hey copper bullet is there shame on your face?
If you lay your body down will it make this a peaceful place?
Hey copper bullet why don't you go away?
We need to make a change or youll be here to stay.
calvin schafer May 2018
we suckle the **** of the "civilized" world
thats designed for your comfort and your ease.
but we are all blind, hit stop and rewind.
its the shaman that really sees.
umbilical chord to the material world
designed for fleeting satisfaction.
chasing for tomorrow, life that's full of sorrow.
fooled by capitalist distraction.
turn our backs on nature, killing for the dollar. eat some of nature's candy so you can hear the mother hollar. dog eat dog, no more running with the pack. shaman saying he could change the world with the fungus in his sack.
calvin schafer May 2018
The flower of doom
in its bloom
its petals of dollar bills.
Mark Wanless Apr 2018
"usa is us a"



a society of a little bit of

                           this and that

                                     is usa and usa is us a

   demonic jewel thief

                         of evil intent

                                                  or

   money bags buys

                                   the big blue world

                     on sale cheap

                              cuzz we manipulated

     the price             and made it              cheap

                      by knocking out

          the competition

                                       without worry bout

                    collateral damage

                                              the dead don't blead

                or

                                  birthplace of the compassionate

    rich !

                                     promised

                        miracle of capitalism

                                                                ­on its way

           though not here

                                                                ­      yet

   just gotta have faith

                                      baby

                                                     just gotta have faith

                                       really                        

          you can hear one

                                              breathin

                      just lean close and

                                                        listen
oldie
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