cardboard tasting political explanations and

technical questions nobody dares speak swatting at

bumblebees as if they were all the queen all this for less than

$12 an hour and the

tabloids say we're finally

penetrating the insurgents like one penetrates a

motel hooker with no fear of

overspill

today and tomorrow like blood-red

bubbles in the volcano of war

roundabout and messy deliberations

with paisley ties

about mission implausible;

hard boiled occupation

and whose the catalyst?

happy birthday

you granted them a license

making current affairs blister.

carrot coloured parrot on the

old maps of yore where

one might ruminate

over a brisk diet coke

yellow rubber flubber

at the mortuary

that guy gave me the ok-go

and down the alley I went

the off white floor

like a bulldozer over

a bent steel rod

in the bright

blue sky

you layed this brick

like a budget for the

bus station

burn your visa

and your brain

and your bones

Finding the vicious Auspicious

and we've seen the sanguine all over the TV screen

Optic conception

perception

deception

a dynamic card trick

Mercury in the blood we see

a poison of the mind of mankind

and thee;

silent requiems sung in violent banshee tongues

Innuendo causing Crescendo

scatching the people from mosque to steeple to temple

while we Acquiesce what we detest

One Nation under pretense of the creation of some defense

Symphonic yet Sardonic, but Savage

and we take Sanctuary

from your Sacrifice.

Sanctioned by those against Savanna

when suddenly Spontainaity has been the last to Satisfy

Sapphire: This Is Your God.

Obey.

Consume.

Acquire what you desire

looming over my

inevitable response

with a fork

to plung into my veins

making me remember

the taste

of that fallacious

meld

you call gut-wrenching

but I call suicide

but...

--

I'm no Mussolini

--

Do these scars define me? Or just remind me of hiding behind my green tea, my unfermented Mussolini, tormented by alienation and reduced to making up laws out of blinding sobriety? What an offense is this temperance devoid of humanity and tense. I might as well be burning incense wearing my custom made hempen necktie to the gallowstree construction site offices.

Laying off independent contractors. Hiring professionals, nothing but controlled reactors elected by a congressional hearing, authority fearing. You know... democracy.

I ain't no fascist; I just love hierarchy. Who are you to resist? Step in line darkie!

Oh... my I must have had some black tea. Surely, the problem can't be me. I'm no Mussolini.

I wanna change the world, make it right. Make you believe in me and be more polite. This is for the poor white dead men walking who has no excuses. Alcohol abuses. Constant misuses. Then he accuses me of wanting too much. Of needing a crutch, a crutch for the single mother- bilingual- "speak American you stupid bitch!" skimping and stealing , "burn that witch!"

Corporate (profits) welfare reform

Maybe I am Mussolini sans the martini. We're thinking clearly now. Green tea, Tao. I'm holding a picture of Chairman Mao and Johnny isn't coming home. Vlad, The Walrus and the man in black walk into a bar...

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