Grey-Green-Red-Brown Dawn
stains right through a.m. sky
                     so the atmosphere
                     looks weird today.
The forecast calls for heat again;
that silent, seething drum that beats
        the blood-drenched dollar sky--
beats out a March of Ages--

beats us copper lumps to shape.

The shelf we Occupy on this drifting
westward continent, constructed from
the flesh that fell from our fathers' hands,
from the bones of distant lands
becomes a dusty storage closet
        for the corpses of our days

Our days--aha.
That's supply and demand, kid.
What's a life but flesh-time?
And what's time if not money?
Nothing!
Nothing is anything
                   but money.
You. Are money.
Like time.
Sleep well tonight. And set your clock.
You gotta work to buy their robots
that **** Mid-Eastern skies
(and Midwestern ones alike)

Sink real slow beneath the surface
of that rising ocean of noise--
growing louder--hot air melting ice caps.
Watch that boiling, acid ocean
roll in on the tide and sink
beneath the waves of noise--
               of monotone voices--
sawdust seasoning on cardboard--
crying, "These colors don't run!"
and, "Stand your ground!"
and for fun, when bored, answer the
                 Call of Duty.
It's that silent, seething drum

beating 'gainst THE TERRORISTS
while we deny the summer heat
as we sweat in SUPERBOWL SUNDAY dreams,
Like it beat against the COMMUNISTS
through all our TOP GUN weekends,
Like it drums up portraits of
              vampire fanged IMMIGRANTS
                                           and ILLEGALS
while we guzzle our BEER
and sweat beneath those acne-scarred skies
on the FOURTH OF JULY.

Sleep well tonight

And set your clock.

Don't wanna be late for work,
to buy their robots that **** Mid-Eastern skies
          (and Midwestern ones alike).

What's that hum outside your window tonight,
whirring, buzzing
                 droning
beneath the blood-drenched dollar sky?

Oh, how silly all of us mere humans are!
Preoccupied with having big houses and shiny cars.
How lost we have all become!
Consumed in ourselves, compelled by our wants.

Is it more money that will melt your heart?
Is it immense success or limitless power?
Is it all matter of materialism?
A new toy with every passing hour?

Perhaps it's lust that you try to slake?
Or you try to quench your thirst with alcohol?
Maybe you seek your solace in drugs?
But do you really expect to find true happiness in that at all?

Silly humans, sweet and lost, weren't you every taught?
The sui generis thing about happiness is that it cannot be bought.
So stop seeking for it in things you purchase, or ***, or drugs.
And instead, seek for it in something free, perchance, seek it through love.

What does that mean??
Consumer madness is where we live
So mad, we can make our waste just disappear
Like magic, **** its gone
In a hole ..
.. somewhere, who cares ..
On a hill top plateau ..
.. that used to be a valley, not that long ago
To a place to be dissected by strangers
.. who salvage everything they can
An invisible continent of floating plastic shame
Trapped in the rhythm of the Pacific
Out of sight out of mind
Strangling nature and her beasts
Who gave us this right
We actively recycle but to what end
Did we need to go there in the first place
Does this justify our madness
I think not ..

I'm a menace, baby, menace
Mess with me I'm a furnace
Come near
Imma put you in flames

I ****, baby, ****
But you still adore me
Rather fill yourself up
Then give me up

You're a zombie
I'm the poison
That's keeping you there

You're lustful for everything in the world
My seeds plant desire in your mind
Keeping you hungry for more

Money, baby, money
Your god, your mandate, your sacred script

Wet for my blood
Wet for my sweat
Hunger over me

Wet for the ache between my eyes
Desirous seams

Tying the noose to the phyxi ****
Does it make you ******* wet?
Grasping the lines of this broken spine
Indebted till death

I sit amongst rampant consumerism,
Yet I smile as I sip my Starbucks tall Pike Place.
To my left, old ladies decked in Tiffany decry their neighbours folly,
Even while they sit blind to their own.
To my right, Chapters!
Book store that offers so much more,
A perfect monument of society's needs answered in one storefront.
We don't shop here for a read, or for the escape some unknown author's words spell for us.
No, this masterfully crafted shop answers our shared need of empty spending on soulless items that will lift us from the mire of our meaningless lives for one instance,
Before that scented candle or witty greeting card is left to collect the dust of our fallen gods.

Behind me the street is full of noise but no one is listening,
Busses carry the many but each is a world onto themselves,
Thoughts not of their making wrestle for attention with smartphones,
Before long the thoughts echo what the eyes read on the digital screens glowing below them.
The enemy of my friend...
Don't let consciousness wake!
Combined the noise without and the noise within will drown whatever chance we had at relevancy.
And so Oprah wins,
Look under your chairs,
It's your new life,
Not to be mistaken with your old one,
This one comes with a shiny new automobile, trip, ring, dress, shoes,
Anything but enlightenment.

Before me,
Possibilities.

You?

I fell in love at a McDonald’s. I expected it to happen in an overpriced cafe or a fancy Italian restaurant, but it happened at a McDonald’s and it was love all the same.

We were on our way back from the beach. We went whale watching but the ocean could have been empty for all the fish we saw. We paid good money for a caricature of the two of us. The graphite image of a happy couple with our faces sat in the back seat of your car. It would be framed and put up. We went into the sea as deeply as we dared and laughed and screamed as the waves came and came and came.

We were driving home with bits of mountains and boulders stuck between our sandaled toes and that’s when you pulled into a McDonald’s.

You ordered a sandwich, 100% real beef, never frozen, and asked me what I wanted. I said I would have the same. 100% real beef. Never frozen. I hate spending time and money on that which can only be consumed. We sat down with our food underneath the fluorescent lights next to a Happy Meal kiosk and I decided that I was in love with you and it was love all the same.

This is the place where people come to forget that they will die one day.

They let their conscience build up on the linoleum floor in puddles,
deep and dark
And follow the crowd to the next store
And the next
And the next.

This place will bleed you.
It will tear your pockets out of your clothing
And your children’s hands from yours.

A new shirt.
A new TV.
Well done.
You’ve done well.

But when you leave the white walls
The music tinny and dim
Escalators and litter
You still won’t feel free.

We live in a society were the physical world shadows the metaphysical.
We live in a society were money precedes life.
Students are broke(n) like the loans that imprison them.
Death and taxes are inevitable, but it seems that taxes are more of a threat then death itself.
The greenback alludes us into becoming vicious consumers praying on the wealth of others.
We live in a society turned upside down. Broke(n).