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"bankrupts" poems
If eight years we labored in canals and valleys and on girders and then for four years we spilled **** blood and the Depression is lifted or the depression is lifted or not really. America, your deep vein thrombosis the size of a lilywhite Toyota Highlander You don’t make things anymore. Your Marxists winter in the empty museums. Your union halls belong to the company. You ought to be Haymarket men, bloodcleaned and ready for anything but instead you workshop one-liners. America you are afraid to love. America you are afraid of medicine and the medicine you do take, bankrupts you. America reset your passwords and the twenty-year-olds will help you find a mate we promise. Do you feel how distant you are becoming from yourself? Do you feel how words must towards the things they stand in for like a silhouette like an ironic silhouette like a sketch like a mere shape? I cannot be certain any longer. No, really, I am losing that skill. I lose myself in coffee cups dreaming of painted lips. My bedtime stories are of Robespierre and Louis Ex-Vee-I; they put me to sleep instantly. I can read this poem eighteen times and never feel a thing. If nothing makes sense, it’s because we decided we didn’t need it. America do you hate but not really? America do you listen but not really? America, you’re trying to eat better but the poor and ruined in Missouri still chew on plyboard and drink flat Mountain Dew you want engineers but ********** to starlets America, not one thing will satisfy you not any screen or voting lever your children wander supermarkets putting everything they find in a basket America, give Louisiana to the French cede the Black Hills to the Sioux retreat into your telephones and remember Tippecanoe America a voice is singing from the past and you would do well to listen.
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Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 5:56 PM UTC
Ginsberg, Dead These Ten Years, Remains Salient
If eight years we labored in canals and valleys and on girders and then for four years we spilled **** blood and the Depression is lifted or the depression is lifted or not really. America, your deep vein thrombosis the size of a lilywhite Toyota Highlander You don’t make things anymore. Your Marxists winter in the empty museums. Your union halls belong to the company. You ought to be Haymarket men, bloodcleaned and ready for anything but instead you workshop one-liners. America you are afraid to love. America you are afraid of medicine and the medicine you do take, bankrupts you. America reset your passwords and the twenty-year-olds will help you find a mate we promise. Do you feel how distant you are becoming from yourself? Do you feel how words must towards the things they stand in for like a silhouette like an ironic silhouette like a sketch like a mere shape? I cannot be certain any longer. No, really, I am losing that skill. I lose myself in coffee cups dreaming of painted lips. My bedtime stories are of Robespierre and Louis Ex-Vee-I; they put me to sleep instantly. I can read this poem eighteen times and never feel a thing. If nothing makes sense, it’s because we decided we didn’t need it. America do you hate but not really? America do you listen but not really? America, you’re trying to eat better but the poor and ruined in Missouri still chew on plyboard and drink flat Mountain Dew you want engineers but ********** to starlets America, not one thing will satisfy you not any screen or voting lever your children wander supermarkets putting everything they find in a basket America, give Louisiana to the French cede the Black Hills to the Sioux retreat into your telephones and remember Tippecanoe America a voice is singing from the past and you would do well to listen.
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59
Get outta here, she said before your heart bankrupts your soul and camouflages your feelings and your character as a whole. ...amp
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Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 9:33 AM UTC
Leave quickly
Imaginating world peace Where lights never fade Apart some glitch What if ? If Fourth dimension stops No gravity Posting ‘ Hi , from top of the troposphere’ What if ? Death wasn’t near If all had feeling of care If god listen our prayers If we were living in mantle In this earth full of layers What if ? If there was no poverty No origin of bankrupts and robbery No corrupted rulers - sustained development either in urban or rural ; What if ? If no fights between religion all were equal and be each others- happiness reason If guilty were prisioned and inoccent freedomed What if ? Money was just the paper Inequality was just in the dictionary equity in all body If impossible was ‘ I m (am) possible’ If all of us were not gullible If we first looked towards ear a way If someone told , ‘’ look , crow took it away!’’ What if ?
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May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 8:28 AM UTC
Imagination ( What if ? )