For the people by the people is what i heard
But now i feel our word aint worth a ****.
Indirect messages being slurred.
Now the idea of peace is absurd?
The youth is being cattled like a herd.

Our ignorance being treated as a resource.
Only half the law is enfroced. And the poor is blamed of course.
They let our anger push us off course.
We been screamin help till our voice get hoarse.
And then they ask why theres bass in thier voice.
Like we have a ****** choice.
Then forth of july come and they ask us to rejoice.

I wish I could warn you about the Salton sea
Of its panicked shores
Of bottomfeeders
Topside once more
It's stenched coasts
Lush green migraines and migration
Boasting of the lives & liberty cost
Drowning in the murk of men’s habitual need
To improve upon ruination

I wish I could caution you to an endorheic basin
Of its perennial purpose
Of many fertile farms
Impregnated by men & their desire to quench desire
It is a natural ****
It is buried deep in the salinity of quest & reason
Give them structure from which to exalt
Give yourself a *******
Working the cracks and the cross of concrete which is potholed & pitted

I wish I could show you a river valley ahead of it’s time
Of its eventual need to exist
Of dependent mockingbirds
& cattled egrets
An uneven ***** on which mother colorado rests your beleaguered complaints
Drink up while it lasts
A memorandum to a family
That dried up the poisoned well

I wish we could fall to our knees
We don’t
We raise our hands to the sky
Take me dear lord
But first
Let me take a selfie
Let me edit my life
Let me apply a filter over this endless malcontent
& then when it isn’t enough
Let me blame you

if thought be a mirror,
i never quiet know
what peers in,
let alone know what:
peers out...
  at least with an abyss i
know that the peering mind
"knows" what will
peer out: the abyss itself...
this, the darkest aspect
of Narcissus -
the shadow that uncovered
the fascination with
the image, rummaging
in a pseudo-kleptomania...
        there is a spiritual
kleptomania,
kleptomania isn't reserved
for material gain...
how else would punk
or any other culture spread?
stealing with the mp3
has simply become the norm,
a norm: and nothing more!
black or white
attempting to colour in grey...
as spectacular as:
watching paint dry...
        no wonder then!
wonder at what?
   am i missing something?
    the whole idea of
intellectual "property" is a farce...
"they" always remind us:
intellect is free!
no man is getting off this boat
alive, or only half-cannibalised...
no chance in high heaven or
Taratarus...
                    that agonising torture
of feeding off jealousy,
feeling lousy,
only gods can be deemed
jealous and feel impregnable...
man, rots, in feeling jealousy...
       so few attain what the many
are asked to further...
    but at least there's
a furthering process.,
replacing these "struggling"
p'ooh p'ooh fwings will only spell
one thing and one thing alone...
well: we can honestly be rid
of your jealous thieving,
don't worry,
you're replaceable...
    and what is that,
    with an honest pay?
more?
give the finger ask for a hand,
then ask for an arm, and then the whole
body?
        don't worry...
                   life's no ***** but
a ****, when karma is invoked...
        then it's all ******* daisies and
cauliflowers pretty!
      when karma reaches the potency
of being fed little injustices...
it no longer involves particular
instances... everything become en masse
integral, non-differential,
karma is a anti-moral-relativism set
of rules, like gravity,
throw anything up, it falls,
karma is pro-moral-absolutism...
             don't worry,
you'll get your turn...
after all: every member of a cattled
herd do...
                  thieving just became
too easy...
i can't even begin to fathom how
easily people became able to steal...
      it's almost as if they stole with
their eyes closed...
      if thought be a mirror,
i never quiet know what peers in,
let alone what peer out...
         it's not that i get a .pgf
file... what i do get is a .zip file...
        so you see...
very hard to authenticate what i'm
looking at / into or against...
           gedanke wie spiegel:
ich nicht kennt was starren in es,
    noch was starren aus von es;
my love resides in the fact that
the grammatical constructs of
p.s. anglo-saxons is so similar to
germans of modern yore,
or at least that's how i think it is.