We are a generation,
Indeed, a nation,
Raised upon foreign warring.
Scapegoat aggravation.
Bushes and *****
Clamoring for horror and hoarding.

Conspiring against a population,
I watch through youthful aging.
With my childlike eyes, I see
The target they're blaming:
Afghan families having more
in common with me,
Working class American,
Than those transparent heirs
With the world's wealth and arrogance,
Ordering for the villagers' obliteration
Through boys from our nation.

We are a generation raised
On media sensation
Of militarized devastation;
Animal exploitation;
Technological manifestations
Providing privacy infiltration.
Material attainments;
Mental frustrations;
Fiat debt enslavement;
A nation entranced by
Senseless parading.

Tempting decadence and
Announcements with no evidence.
The September bounty of edifice
That fell with no hesitance
Still echo its unfounded,
Preemptive pretenses.

This murderous reign;
this senseless parade;
Advertisement cyclical
in their game of charades;
Dog on a chain;
Famine causing no pain.
Permissible opinions
To be solely maintained.

The damage, the waste,
The heinous race and class chase.
Oppression remains thoughtlessly dangerous,
As moral responsibility brings no attainments.
Chowing down on maimed millions
Bellowing from enslavement.

Fortunately, elder,
Rothschild, Rockefeller, or
Those above them whom
Remain blackened, faceless:
Resistance shall come
From all places, all ages.
Such as this generation of mine
Inheriting increasing complications,
With the type of America
You wish to keep in rotation.

I'll carry the flag containing
Your mistakes as a symbol,
To remind those behind me
What not to rekindle.

To the Boomer who stews
In your white collar suit,
Still refusing to shake
Your destructive pursuit,
Still asking me to lick
Off authority's boot:

Growing up in this nation,
With childhood innocence,
I grew increasingly aware
Of the land of such ignorance.
I had such thoughts since
Early adolescence,
I was not blind to larger lessons.
Only since supported by
Actual, factual supported confessions.

To the Boomer tied to his convictions,
Now will you see-
That isn't going to work
For us or for me.
I'll bring to this world
Whatever I please.
Which so happens to be
Truth, justice, and peace.

As life went on and misfortune was prevalent
Our minds became twisted, coiled and bent
We became those monsters we laughed at soon
And we are here, and we are hungry, too
Our sharp teeth, tearing flesh, swallowing blood
Chowing down on others' misery, as monsters should
Curiosity leads us for most of our lives
But sometimes us monsters have to say goodbye.

During the winter weeks
everything looks bleak
so I can hardly speak
looking to out-sleep
this subzero streak
of record lows
and checkered toes
from blizzard blows
the geese all go
but I stall froze
in this tundra tunnel
where the water breaks
must be signs of the shovel
and all it takes
to obfuscate
my massive lake's
frozen fate
and the cozen gate
for that chosen date.

I need to erase these bland hues
for leaves to sprout brand new
to brighten my ****** view
like I'm living in Cancun
chilling at Chichen Itza
chowing on chicken pizza
staring at the colorful sky
under which I never hide
but those are just colors in my mind
looking at the bleakness and the grime
I'm weakened by this time
I need to stay alive
to see the days get wide
and colors collide
releasing me from the darkness fog
so I won't be a heartless sod
after people start to dodge
my evil dark flaws.

Once the clouds split
they'll give me a gift
removing the ****
that makes me slip
on the ice all around me
covering the water in which I'm drowning
when my virulent vision starts browning
erasing positive colors and mentality.

This world will be less neutral
after my diffused old
infused soul
find renewal
in the sun's jewels
creating more vibrant colors
than the winter's covers
of black and white
with lack of light
and saddened sight
to mask what's right.

Once the sun brings back the day
I'll put down my gun and come out to play
but life isn't fun living this way.

coming back full circle... but not exactly...
rereading ted berrigan's sonnets
is like:
      unlike: my dreams, my love...
my thirst my youth that i gladly blind-spotted
and it passed me: with not bye-bye...
not that i am old enough
for a retrospection...
  but i also, don't suppose it can ever
be a mythological time
akin to... march, april, may of
a 1963 of the u.s. of a.
            i never go around the: h'american
love for acronyms...
i never will...
two best things out of this said continent /
nation... 20th century poetry and...
bourbon...
i would have added cornbread
to the list but i've never tried...
but my god
        they really did love their milk:
esp. via seeing it in movies and some
h.b.o. "what's not a soap opera"...
#metoo: i too love milk...
but... not when eating dinner...
on it's own... and if i feel congested
then milk in the morning
with some strawberries...
usually does the "trick"...
but unlike any other time in history
when words were written
somehow: democratically and not,
because of a churn of a behemoth of
talent: like: Shaky Pear...
               not all... spectacular?
exactly... but not one to really
allow himself a statue status...
  such was the prodigy of a people:
once upon a time...
once upon a time there was also
a soviet pact...
now i'll just focus on pedantic *******...
i.e. the colon...
how it is primarily a punctuation
mark of a prepositional nature
to fathom a rubric, a list...
e.g. in a supermarket, you will probably
find: watermelons, whiskey, eggs...
honey... butter...
or... it's employed as an emphasis
when otherwise italicised letters
would do as much
ergo...
   i do wish: you could
"vs." i do wish, you could...
          then again... the stress is not
on the pronoun of you...
but whether this one of a you:
could, would, should, will, no...

it's been a while since i've liked what
i write... i guess it must be
a while longer because this
just stinks of forced-jack-****
of... "scared of an empty canvas":
it screams! beg the crows to
pig me...
beg the crows to peck me...
beg the crows to pluck my eyes
out... beg the crows at the pig's trough
beg the crows: i'm an omelette
of minced flesh...
not an omelette a
tightening of herr burg & herr er
with glue of most certainly
egg... breadcrumbs...
maybe... may-be... flour...
of the relevant culture from the past
century:
thespian shadow-thieving -
what if John Wayne were to be staged
in a biopic of Lyndon B. Johnson...
just as a reminder:
where my southern comfort comes
from...
backtracking to: some ******* of
a little town where the meme
of the slender man roams...
it's hardly not terrible to have this
romantic, nostalgic view of
1960s h'america and not the 1950s...
if i were a german
bound to the 19th century's closure
it would have been
the mystery of the ancient Greeks:
so i'm told no great nostalgia
on the crux of the expansion
of Rome: not a lot of thinking
upon the shoulders beside...
       "thinkers" like Cicero and Seneca...
congested with names...
cruel underworld of
a crab-bucket...
fatty farts against not wind:
below an entire grey body of water
of: must we forget(?)
             beside all this reason to:
abstract...
the drawings in the caves of Lascaux...
at best Kandinsky attempted
to replicate the "blur":
at worst he replaced the ox
with a deconstructed something or
alienated the "other" of
a rectangle...
mind you: the X (chi) is a surd...
Las-Cow...
  lasso me in... escape the tumult of sounds...
today this one word
started boiling in me...
no use to converse with it / over it...
i'd sooner be found digesting some
offal: like beef intestines in a broth (
beef-comb): sooner me nibbling
on goat's hooves...
- the word?
oh... it involved tonne...
   but it was missing -ne...
        whatever the word was:
i still remember the word: cloud...
as i might remember...
clot... and cauliflower...
            to stand in the light of the most
abstract: outside of the realm
of space, time...
then to have to return to the glued realms...
like... before the discovery of
dinosaur bones...
people were drawing pictures
of dragons...
fire-breathing creatures...
fire from the meteor...
accepted orthodox narrative "parallel"...
to imagine dragons from what?
seagulls and wriggling spines of
lost eyelid serpents:
insomniac lizards?
             i abhor fatalism more than
i might ever like to join
the nihilistic gypsy circus of
alcohol and ***** ****:
  skin's between the muscle, the fat:
toward the bone(s)...
  this is too eerie, even for me:
i might like to lapse into
some variation of existentialism
with solipsism on the fore...
barrage of verbiage: perhaps some loan
word... perhaps:
notably in english: none...
in the clamours of the niche:
   claustrophobic esque nostalgia for...
words from worms...
the sound made by slugs
when digesting glass, ice and pressured rocks
that... time... devours...
where to begin a resurfacing narrative
from?
  historically - rather...
ahistorical - easier for the atheist...
easier for the atheist
than the a-historicist... no?
              much easier to be an atheist
than to be... so laughed at having to conjure
past events like they might
lead one into commanding an army
of figurines...
that there must be some mediocre events
worth more than...
the john f. kennedy's speech about...
moon, nationhood and one's place in it...
is more important than...
the charge of the winged
hussars at the siege of Vienna...
well then...
that in the beginning there was word
and the word was god:
honestly?
poetry would call it: counter evolution...
we didn't evolve from apes:
we devolved from apes...
we... fell...
        divine inspiration...
to have to explain a load of camel riddling
******* along the way of
the humps and the seven rivers,
the seven mountains etc.
why would i need clothes and... fashion...
if i could still be a 300lb gorilla
with my own fur?
why would i need bonsai tigers
as company when i could
have life most exciting...
most congenial: most social in a little
pride...
for a computer or a telephone
i abhor... for the letters i see...
i could take my mortal self to the highest
perch of the crown: that's a tree...
i would never have had to leave
Africa and wander: desolate toward
the ***** of Alaska or Siberia...
a dream-esque state of affairs...
Darwinism is too much of
an a posteriori perspective...
      
      it's not that i don't like it:
but it's one of those arguments: structured
to erase any if all history...
the impeding doom for the "individual":
some... "now"...
it's not like Philip Augustus, the Capetian would
be desired to have
a mention...
well... under darwinism it's unlike
the Copernican collective revolution...
solo-projects astound:
some common grounding with this: hearth...

my pet peeve is also with the people
that are bishops of Darwinism...
who can't see uselessness of
having to apply something
a posteriori... having to agitate the sleeper-cell
of the unit of man...
i don't see the point of waking
individuals one by one...
hell: altogether now: yes!
but at the same time...
it's useless... hindsight is useless...
notably when studying history...
it **** with the momentum of life!
darwinism has ******-off with the momentum
of life...
e.g. subjectivity is an illness!

thank **** i'm forever subject to gravity...
and the english crown... but not forever...
and how they cite: subjectivity ill...
yet they are subjected to the scientific facts...
"objectivity" round-up...
they don't object to the facts...
the science...
next to none snooker + poker ******* teasing
with pokers & a giggle... march...

intellectually not hardened:
by the preface of the hard boiled egg:
later, much later...
screamed against a tile upon a tile:
glued together with some mayo for
a paste...

    for an atheist to live without
either the concept of time,
"concept" aside: that there is time,
that there is space...
for pauper me to allocate the...
Fwench scoop on the matter: pyramids!
what space is: a barren creature...
what time is: an unforgiving ******
of replica of past events...
what "god" is...
a most forgiving Ottoman of
leisure...

not what i will do upon entry
into eternity:
but, rather... what i will not have
to "encounter":
i see no evolution:
perhaps the simplest explanation
that guarantee the mind of gravity
extending to the serpentine
of plants via phototropism...

we devolved to be so conscious
of so much that leave
us adding so little to what could
encapsulate us with details
of managing "the whole"...
we have our structures...
our striking contrasts of cataracts...
what we pet we ingest with
cancer what dies
sooner we have probably poached
or snookered into an ivory trade...

we evolved for a headache...
a bunch of walking abortions...
i see no gorilla enslave
a giraffe for ****'s sake...
a body of horse... exists...
from chowing / chewing on grass...
the dietary requirements
of the omnivore of a "hulk":
rattle my wheat basin!

what isn't atheism is: what's ahistorical?
remind me what is!
cosmopolitan superiority
of argument: "argument"?!
           leave me with
Odin and Slender Man...
leave me with the oldest superstitions that
allowed me to gravitate toward
a purpose that was never
about the crisis in stand-up comedy...

for christ's worth of cross
and if that's not bad:
i just wanted a broom...
or a *****...
if i were desperate enough:
a *****...
sell that ****(e) to Syrians
if you must...
when i asked for a shovel
i received a circumcision suppose...
i asked for a shovel...
not now when Israel has
been established to drivel against
goat, goad & gott...
i can replenish the Berliner
cosmopolitan scoop.... for hush, hush...
will h'america charade with
a white knight charge?

no... i bet so!
this new... nuanced... axis of heave!
and even still: "evil"....
how one tribe "allows" themselves
to "think" they are expatriates...
the other tribe didn't follow suite:
not enough powdered *******:
not enough cumin, coriander,
turmeric...
EASTERN EUROPE...
lesser former soviet ****...
oh sure... the expatriates of Xina...
and...

   lesser people of Yugoslavia...
Greek is not European:
PIGS...
      once upon a time: jarring...
add a year or so to the equation...
just plain ******* dandy / annoying...
the lesser Europe... EAST...
well... **** me: bon voyage and your
sharia!
niqab me later...
         ****'s a brownie of a cuckoldry
and lacklustre and still calls it:
the beacon for all people
to glorify: brain-drain manifest themselves in...
to champion!
i was late to the party...
your... masochists had priority status
to exam the arguments...
i have a mushroom's growth
of animosity for these supposed:
higher tier people, these natives:
oh god... i love the tongue...
i own it...
   from what i heard some of the natives
are dyslexic.

Tonight,
I wanna kiss you in a room full of people while they laugh and chat among themselves and pay no attention to us.
Tonight,
I want you to open the presents I got for you and I want to open the ones you got for me, and I want to hug you.
Tomorrow,
I want to spend the day with you, chowing down on takeout-chinese and watching movies all day.
Tomorrow,
I want to waste a sleepy day with you and pass out in a heap on the couch, tired just because.

Constitutes the world’s largest
first-party data platform
for insights, activation and measurement

Earlier today August 28th, 2022,
a representative from aforementioned
market research company
fielded political questions to yours truly.

The young lady at other end of telephone
(little baby crying
accompanied the background)
peppered me with salty queries;
I replied with personal feedback.

Such inquiries got me thinking
about countdown to 2022 midterm elections...
from August 28th, 2022 at 4:59 PM

Above identified important date
when voters go to polls
10 weeks, 1 day, 8 hours away.

Nast T. contrived Pachyderm(s)
spar against Equus asinus,  
the former issuing trumpeting sounds
emulating courtesy jabbing a loose tusk
“The Art of the Deal” hip hip hooray
truckling tutored toadying troopers
signaling viz unfurling trunk hated votes
will finagle, snaggle, wrangle...
hook and crook to get their way
Don auld (hold) hate inside,
nor unroll your red carpet, cuz...
January 20th, 2025 trumpets,
return of the native (hardy) son
with pen sieve (my cull) word play,
when truculence becomes fashionable again yay!

Tipping the scales and approximately weigh
ying two hundred and fifty pounds
courtesy chowing down McDonald's
fish delight specially cooked up today
er... rather bare'n his teeth on Sunday,
when said Golden Arches patron
hungrily wolfs down favorite meal,
a valuable selling point
fast food giant could portray.

In truth, yours truly a liberal Democrat
with humorous zing
double entendres ahead
look out when cross xing
into pun one mock two zone,
I gently ply hitting
left field homers courtesy upswing
titillating madding crowd
generating suspense pulse quickening
political kibitizing more left-wing
versus common joe
biden his time crafting moderate
reasonable rhyme fulfilling
personal literary quest.

Two plus months hence...
government of the people,
by the people,
for the people,
will perish from the earth
unless voters choose wisely
when the 2022 United States elections
held on Tuesday, November 8, 2022.

During upcoming midterm election year,
all 435 seats in the House of Representatives
and 35 of the 100 seats in the Senate
36 gubernatorial seats
27 secretary of state seats
and 30 attorney general seats
will be contested. ...
other statewide elected offices include
lieutenant governor, auditor,
controller and/or treasurer and more.

This will be the first election affected
by redistricting that followed 2020 census.

All kidding aside yours truly
would sooner groom Frankenstein's bride
to occupy Oval Office versus
******, raunchy, randy, and paunchy narcissist
otherwise referencing forty fifth president
of United States a bonafide and certified

threat to democracy, a sore loser who decried
outcome of two thousand twenty election
razor thin winning margin courtesy blue party
electoral college elucidation edified
although squabble ensued electorate fortified,
nevertheless elephant in the room glorified
present day divisiveness
impossible mission to hide.