"who brainwashed you?"

asks the man
                           who feeds himself
to the nation's most beloved narcissist,
casts himself down its gullet,
and takes a seat in its stomach
three times a week
                         who mindlessly
propagates the propaganda
he declares to be doctrine
he testifies like truth
                         who would deny
God's holocaust,
would gas truthful love
in his basement,
burn the bodies
and burn the ashes,
the free minded ****
                         who hates the situation
but does nothing to change it.

"oh, this used to be the land of the free!"

drunk on self-righteousness,
inebriated waste.

Oh, hell! Open your gates,
let your demons out!
Let new ones make Satan's company!
Drag sinful beauty in by the ankles,
hoist her high, broadcast her *******
screaming,
she pleads to return to the sweet plain of id.
Smelt her soul, and ornament your gate!
Oh, hell! Oh, my heart! Oh, hell!

Tell me, kid, you got a life?
Because I'll buy it off of you!
Name your price!
I'll trade you all my thoughts,
my chords, my words,
for that life you've got.

Tell me, kid, have you a lover
past your hand?
Name your price!
You want memories,
secrets, lust?
I own it all, and all could be yours!

Tell me, kid, have you a friend
past yourself? I'll buy him off of you.
Name your price.
I'll give you some supporters,
some labels, some renown.
What do you value? Name your price.
I'd give you my soul for yours.

I.

I used to be a crocodile.
I knew no risks, no tears, no joy
no excitement to lure me above water,
no work, for it was cut out for me
in the shallows with the small fish,
no heavens to make up for,
no hells to hope for,
no soul to shatter on mid-spring days
when all life is but a nightmare
and clouds are all but
******* on my head,
who granted to desired effect
that siren hoped for,
who sits upon the sandy shore
and whispers sweet songs to me, myself
evolved,
and repeats me back
the songs I taught her,
"Over and over again,"
she mocks.
How Neptune did churn his waters
to beach a loveless Odysseus here
shall ever be unbeknownst to me.
But
beeswax I have fixed in my ears,
but
now I cannot hear my other friends
in the trees.
but
once I make my flight from this island,
away from the crocodiles,
and starvation,
and sirens,
I will take it out, and
I will hear!
by God! I will hear
and be heard!

II.

No sound.

The siren's lips move;
the water recedes.
the sky grays.
the crocodiles come.
I am drawn near
by her lotus lips that bid me down this tree
but
I must not dismount.
but
a second siren in the trees
has been picking out my beeswax.
Two songs.
The reptiles draw ever nearer to
the siren, her song is the loudest.
The second siren sings a song
of warning                              and captivation.
              

I dismount the tree
to fight back the green menace, and save
the first siren.
I knew these fellows once.
They were my friends,
and now do I slay them.
I see only jaws and red blood now,
and now am I defeated.
The crocodile has taken her as prey,
so familiarly,
for I was a crocodile
once.

Jack could fly, had he wings,
and would die, had he not the mind.
The clouds above were his limit,
and no further would he rise.

There were cities in the clouds
made for those who could reach,
and Jack's new springboard
could launch him a hundred feet.
He could arrive just in time
to claim his prize of pride
if he jumped now.

Jack's dreams mocked him,
but with his springboard unassembled,
he told himself "In due time."

Then the day came.

His palms were sweating,
his heart leapt,
he shook with the raw ambition
he was famous for
to join himself to that city.

He ran, and worked up a great speed,
hit the springboard,
flew upward and hit the ceiling
and fell to the carpet.

Finally seeing his springboard
for what it truly was-
worthless,
with broken breaths and watering eyes
and a seemingly indifferent disposition,
he placed the springboard in his closet,
and jumped back into the hole he had crawled out of,
months before.

i left myself behind.

when i cared that no one cared
and became afraid that i could die
alone, and desolate, and cold,
i left myself behind.

when i took a leap of faith,
but dove into a passion pit,
but proved myself i had a soul
i left myself behind.

when i wrote down the first few words
that hushed and stilled my restless mind,
when i was forced to change my name,
i left myself behind.

when i found my newest muse
and set out on a dream of mine,
i pressed record and started new
and left myself behind.