I came to a crossroad
they asked me to grow old
marry a girl, settle down
and become like you
It hurts it does
this change of phase
I made a deal with an angel
to stay here and watch you go
they've done this all before
same old voices
these same old things
Won't forget my vow
the destiny I choose
to hang onto adventure
and take a different road
I won't go with you,
oh hell no
stay true, stay true
upon internet wires
than any stone
I will escape
I will, I will
Cricket was started by the English,
They have a lot of spare money,
Too much more spare time,
But India has to work,
And cricket is the deterrent,
It restricts our national growth,
A trace of occupation by the English.
Dust mites and terabytes.
A simple recipe for humanities blights.
Thoughts form not into structures,
but paper you keep forgetting to take out of your pocket
when you throw your jeans into the dryer.
Flyers online consume our nation
as society mimics intimacy
through the twist and turns of an online server.
Just out of touch enough
to create the illusion of choice.
A high IQ regains the reality of vision
further blocked by the rose tinted glasses
hanging on the wall of every store.
What use is hiding behind a screen
when the only enamored party you have
is the one you've fabricated in your head.
it’s like you burn the w
in a shadow pot of money
and i should know
i live in the sunlight
that you speakha ha
in a tongue that nobodyha ha ha
ha ha ha ha(idiocy)
i shouldn’t be laughing
though because people are dy
ing right under yo
Is it better to get more money? Let’s say that it is.
It is better to get more money.
Is it better – for the poor – if everyone gets more money, even if that increases inequality?
The right – who think they are Right – say:
Yes. Disproportionately rewarding the wealthy with wealth creates wealth and quality of life, which the poor can now afford.
The left – who think they are Right – say:
No. Disproportionately rewarding the wealthy with wealth creates wealth and quality of life, which only the wealthy can afford.
So who is Right?
Let’s answer that question with two more questions:
What does “quality of life” mean?
Is it better to get more money?
My medicine had thus enchanted her.
Her darkened brain becomes a slave
To the hot pangs of hysteria
And those violet tears hang on her face, like vines of Wisteria.
The bogey man is coming to sweep the streets
And with his blood-curdling presence
He brings his seven princes;
Heosphoros leads the way and severs
My lady's vagus with his impale morning star.
I hear weeping- is something emerging, from the molten sea of infierno? Pish! She now kneels before
The shrine of Mammon and pleads
'Heavens forfend! I must seek the ash
Path to prosperity and pretend!'
My lady's face no longer beholds
That youthful dew and that
Ethereal pigmentation of her visage.
No, no she has become achromic,
...I embosomed her in my arms
Tried minerals, drugs, spirits; hymns
Yet she has exchanged mortality with
Immortality: and has pleased only the Night Deity.
I feel like dying
a death they'll count in likes.
Always second. Next best
option -- may he rest in peace.
So many people other than me.
Having to apologize for bleeding
on the knife in my back.
You cheated on me -- please still love me.
There are so many other men -- please
let me be your eternal.
I'm a side bitch, worth my weight
in wallet and dick. My head of
hair is curly. Tangles of fun;
all connected to ordinary brain.
Tell me your proud, father.
Tell me I'm worth something, mom.
Am I contributing to the economy, America?
May I crumble so that my pieces fill
the cracks that I could never fill.
So many thin, druggy boys and
a crazy, heroin-honey are trying
to stomp me like the virgin dream
that I am. Pure Side Bitch. Pure
Side Bitch. Graphic designers
and killers, oh my.
It couldn't be me
that you're speaking to.
Die for the American Dream?
You want me to write for
no one to read? You want me
to fuck until I can feel?
You want me to fall apart
and be taken care of by someone
who isn't even born yet?
You want my money.
You want my sex.
You want my violence.
You want my soul.
You want me on one side.
You want me to kill my brother.
You want me to be red or blue.
You want me to pick a news channel.
You want me to uncover my camera.
You want to regulate me.
I am your side bitch. I am your
side bitch. You can destroy me
and I will apologize for the
mess my body made.