Dimly Imagined Things

Music distorted and adulterated by cheap effects screen the night. Glowbulbs line the freeway for outdated future footage. The dirt we deal for dollars stains our super spirits like spilt beer. Torrents of dick tears drown the 17 year olds; a laughable bath for diluted kids.  Play/stab the corrugated facades; junk the good stuff; finger the ray being split by the pole and let others think deeply on your blank soul.

A Scene

Santa Cruz, California, Beach Street, diagonal to the arcade, right behind the beach, with only a road and lethargy separating the soles of my shoes from the sand. I wouldn't want to go shoeless on the beach because I hate carrying around my shoes--it feels so stupid absurd like picking up your dog's turds.

A new start

With arms akimbo he awaits their ethereal grace.

They touch him and he billows.

Inside his mind they labor away,

Reworking the rusty and disused dendrites.

A tyro with his new brain, he is awkward and inefficient.

The chords come slowly, and much paint is thrown away,

But, eventually, he is foisted from the garbage like a broken idol

And reassembled to perform for his friends.

Their accolades are like whispers

For he is tumescent with self-satisfaction—it is the first time, ever.

Superficial feelings

Dead on arrival, stuggling for survival

Besieged by the giants of literature

Shackled by my own vices

Distracted by the internet

Im a pile of garbage

A hapless mass of waste

Stuffed with lifeless potential

Mind open like a sore

I poke it with my finger strokes upon this keyboard

This jagged arrangement of words is too personal

So you pass over me like a cloud

I want to fire laser beams at the sky and carve my name in the atmosphere

But instead I will commence to willfully rotting my latency.

Psych

Rough like hair rubbed backwardly, you lurk.

You hurt, rend and tear at the fine fabrics covering convention’s breasts, hopelessly.

She is a swarm and can bear you.

Ba(n)d Idea

we are called Male Gaze

Economic suckdicks

Just look at that. There’s a shortage of manufacturing jobs in first world countries, and regular working class people are out of jobs. These people, the ones who just want to live, and get by, could easily do that, if greedy corporations would stop exporting their labor to countries with cheaper labor costs. All could become well, we could experience meaningful change and discover our place in history. Teachers 100 years from now could make time graphs of us. “There was the internet boom in the mid-to-late-90’s, and shortly afterwards, partly resulting from the ready availability of new ideas via this internet (that’s why I’m branching it from it), there came the world revolt, which lasted roughly from 2010 to 2020 and involved citizens from everywhere making concerted, violent efforts to create change.” said the maternal tutor for young community members.

 There is enough work to employ everyone in the world and end homelessness, if the manufacturing workload was spread more evenly. Instead of slave labor in eastern factories, people everywhere could work normal 8-hour days and live more fulfilling lives. Spreading the workload is most important, whilst still paying the workers, instead of dishing out rations. Everyone would get paid, but our present situation is disgusting. We have been far too trusting because we don’t starve, we have our moments of happiness and we are free [by “we” I mean people born in western countries, with the access to a good education].  The financiers of our economic system are diabolical menaces to greater global happiness.  What can we do about this? Individual wealth cap?  Why not? Everyone will still receive paychecks, but we need to start regulating for the public good. Your paycheck would, just like today [from the perspective of the ignorant public], correspond to your effort.  Those that choose to go to school and work harder than the rest, will ideally have a bigger paycheck. Some people have less energy, and they require less because they prefer to rest and live minimally. There is nothing wrong with this, but they can’t expect a reward for it.  We just can’t let those with all the wealth dictate our lives from behind their enigmatic, elusive, shadowy curtain. It’s avarice, they’re evil, selfish, careless monsters. Unfortunately, at our core, we all harbor half the black heart of a monster, stitched to our red, altruistic one. This is fucked, someone will just manipulate the new way of living and this will start over. Equality is a long way off—it’s not even a speck on the horizon.