Socialism; practicing Christianity.
Economic disparity; Capitalism.
Economic equality; Communism.
?

Giving joy, getting joy, never coy,
Often pretty, always called a toy,
She sells all that there is to deploy.

And there is she who is demure;
A teacher whose job is secure.
Some say that all teachers are pure.

And there is he who is a professor;
He is his father’s successor;
Just like his father’s predecessor.

The first one we call a *****;
She prostitutes her body more and more;
But the other ones we adore.

The professor prostitutes his knowledge.
He also sells his precious time.
And the teacher too makes the same pledge;
Especially while she is in her prime.

We all ******* something every day;
Yet only the first one’s a *******; yay!

lay low
make yourself a nervous fit
imperfect replication

here no one’s happy
staring down narrow paths
burning out the cells
lining their guts

words are worthless.

Our wonderful ad
features full frontal nudes
of chin chiseled, eye pleasing,
ab sculptured dudes.
Our ad shows designs,
simply put: haute couture
You can find all that’s fine intertwined in brochures
that assure,
our ad is a true work of art!
Epic music composed to impose on the heart.
Cheeky infants that dance
in suggestive red glow.
Gargantuan ****
filmed up close and
S -- L -- O -- W -- M -- O
...
Our ad?
Well, by god! It’s a wonderful show!
Cinematic façade that will strike all with awe!
With a well-crafted subtext encoded within
“ALL HAIL PROSTITUTION!”
“ABORTION IS SIN!”
Action!
Gunfire!
Blood!
Severed limbs all around!
Shattered windows!
Kung-fu that exceeds speeds of sound!
Monumental achievement!
Our ad will start soon!
But before, just a word from our sponsor

Stay tuned…

out of arms
out of lungs
out of head
it’s an effort to be dragged
catch beneath the lock
where i tore my lid three years ago
each descent returning
spit from the cavernous body of marx

an empire of glass
the wretched of centre city
mop the open wound of 24/7 affairs
*** and grease stained upholstery
apologising for everyone else's mess

it’s blasé-faire
it’s pro-choice
corporate megaphone through the airwaves
distilled into the perfect idiot subject
enjoy life
enjoy life
enjoy life
enjoy life
enjoy life :)

how lovely
that depression is acceptable only until the breakdown.
it must garner sympathy but must not inconvenience,
look pitiful but not be unproductive;
like you are allowed to be empty
but only until the deadline,
will receive prayers and patience
only until your sadness translates into lazy;
they will claim to understand
only until you have stayed days in
without seeing sunlight,
fallen behind on classes,
missed projects you cannot return to.

your education
and your government
will allow you to be suffering
up until it ties you to bed,
makes you miss days of work
and drown in debt
and lose yourself;
afterwards
it will call these faults
the folly of an able,
merely careless mind;

mental illness
is a ghostly disease —
it exists
and everyone fears it
tells you to check in regularly on your friends for it
speaks of it only in respectful tones
a hushed whisper
about the rising death toll
or buried in a joke about the great
millennial existentialism
(how wonderful
that we have grown close enough to darkness
to be able to laugh at it)

and yet you cannot call it real
cannot claim it as an excuse
for not sleeping
or not eating
or not waking
or —
worse —
not working.

how stupid that we
are allowed to be hopeless
so long as we are not tired.