There is no room left in the world for us.
We are obsolete, we are too many
Not enough skill sets – you are incomplete
worthless – one of many many many many
looking for jobs and food and fuckbuddies and security
A new hierarchy for a new age.
This bullshit is going to implode on itself. I got’s ta build it up, my brothers!
It’s too weak, this won’t hold all the ideas I have, and all I get is one poem
one sentence to tell you all what I think about
and all that other nonsense we focus on while the G-Men are sneaking up the back stairs
Yes, some of my best friends are
but the differences are cultural you see
I’m not anti life I’m just pro abortion
It’s a slippery slope
All of this is poison – all of this is distraction
to keep us fighting and warring and killing each other
while the G-Man is sewing tags into our clothes
Imagine – whirled peas
and Louis Vuitton purses
and wardrobe malfunctions
all the memes
All the cultural mess of Britney Spears shaved head celebrity trash
while the G-man is sniping the Good and the Few
This is still too weak – you can’t catch it all – you can’t eclipse the whole world
there is a this membrane covering it
stretching like a new momma’s belly, rubbing the cocoa butter
maybe if we are very still
it will not burst.