Inside a bouncy room
a limbless man soared,
shouting
"The money is in the treatment,
Never the cure."
Life tax is a heated deliberation
on the house floor.
Genetically modify at conception,
and cap life at 80 with no exception.
Breed out variety.
Grey is purity.
Not knowing life's origins
never stopping attempts at its redirection.
Coup of cosmic visions of perfection.
Fucking Gaia sans erection.
Screams heard as moans.
There are no shadows dark enough
to hide your face once its been shown.
You won't shake the lonely
after torching your home.
L.J. 3.22.2010
No comments:
Post a Comment