Cars go by the windows
and Westernized adults
really a scam,
some sort of sham show
they judge themselves
So the fan turns
the air conditioner hums,
they get up to check their email,
go back to work tomorrow.
For it is in some other world
where they do not
back to work,
but meet other adults
to discuss and address
the real problems
in their lives.
For in this other world
dominators and subservients,
obsessed with myth and power,
vested in both observant locality
and also relational reality.
And these Westernized adults
realize this other world is
waiting to be built.
Would I have to leave you
When the cities were sick.
Choking, polluted messes,
discarded, but still not discarded.
Of course, like all great shit shows,
built by the masculine gender.
Gravel, trash, petrochemicals.
Fused, smashed, grinded together.
But look, there is a new glassy
skyscraper rising above.
Phalluses we pat our backs over.
The leaders retire in them.
Guarded by their Imperium Guards.
These are truths of the era.
Dumb, choking, cough.
So would I have to leave you
to love you, to love in a new way,
beyond the dumb dome of
violent boys playing with their
To kiss the blue bend, bleeding
to black, infinity, freedom.
Civilizations not built around
gold, silicon, and silicon dioxide,
but light, mineral soil, air, the
the unworded, and the unmolecule.
centuries of people
have eaten that bad pizza
more long lasting
is the mystery of
these economies that plague us
come for the people
at this street corner
going in to get their pizza
going into the brick and
to be back home with family
eating the cheese and sauce
with all those electric screens
they look into each others
with something ancient
there’s more to this
in our DNA and the dust of
above and so far across
than what I chew and swallow
over and over
why can’t we all live in
that is where this is going
all of us as remnants
in boxes together
replicating yesterday and
but surrounded by glass
space age metal
and corridors with
lots of clean water flowing
then lots of UV light
the wanting of flowers
when the corporations go away
we will still love
unloved by the
waste they have laid
and pollutants in
but when we
cough blood clots
when children ask
we’ll tell them
there was once this thing
it’s the cost and the price of health
from the once high mandates
of fiendish men
stuck in the 20th century
and this is why I love your
blue eyes now
amongst the stars, averages
and standard messages
It’s like I’m going to war in
World War II
My legs are shaking
I need a ciagarette
My lungs are big
I’ve not had enough calories for the day
though I still love you
On my way up
to the bell tower
where the sniper is
My best friend had his head blown off
and it splattered on me
Gave me the vegence to kill them
It’s why we should never forget
The mechanisms at play
Capitalism produced all this
The tobacco from Turkey
The landing on beaches
and the copius loss of life
that makes us men
She became an idea.
An idea that wore dresses,
and had corporeal feelings
embedded in memories and
This idea drove in a white
from Texas to New York City
and would never be seen
She woke up from a ghost
on a planet
seven hundred and fifty
light years away
and had foggy remembrance
of a different way of life
a different count of days.
The landscape turned from
the white plaster walls of
temples to orange mountains
in the distance
and the navy blue night far
Her heart beat.
She remembered someone she
She looked down at her wrists
Her eyes blinked.
A transmitter brought transference.
A lifetime had been stored in
molecules, configured into
prior held assumptions were
The days is done. The pop music played.
Cavafy’s been read. The scotch drank.
And a train howls solitarily through town,
proclaiming the Industrial Revolution on
the good contemporary day; the greedy
Industrial Revolution, it won’t let go. The
door is open. The pearl land curves of her
ivory body curl on air, the languid, suspended,
electric air. Her smell scents the world. One
thousand six hundred miles away she is
there. Her eyes, the jewels of empires, fall
on concrete, sad concrete. Concrete the
immigrants laid from the bounty of war. Her
chestnut hair flies as the banner of tyrants
and servants. The genetics are broken in
the City. People enter the department store.
People enter the department store. The apple
core rots in her garbage. Her constitution was
formed from war. She lives in the capital of
Capitalism. It lusts her femininity. It loves her
curves. It floors on the energy drinks of the
tiendas. O the asbestos crumbles!
The day is done.
Sometimes I remember something then
I remember the sun.
I remember people doing dumb things
like rushing to toy stores filled with products
on Christmas Eve evening in Southern California
they believed this is what love is.
I don’t believe this is love, I don’t believe
these kind of people anymore.
They’re floating along out there, somewhere
in outer space
somewhere as spirits
because let’s be honest
that is how they were born to be
the walking dead, the slaves, the constructors of
slaves, the worshipers of kings.
Have you been to Gloxx Tower, Baby
Where the Head Capitalist lives up high
In Roman decor
Have you sipped from the crystal
That whittles the soul from the mind
Have you been with the collector of numbers
And drank of the wines of Bourgogne
You’ve only brushed the Tower at its bellows
Like all the good commoners do
Rushing on their way across Brooklyn
In subway cars
These alms to the American dream
At the feet, of course, of what the
Have you indulged or worshiped or even now
are you sleeping
Sleep sweet in the fields of Umbria
The timbers of Iberia have been lumbered
To carry the motive all across the planet
To alter our DNA forever
Oh, my Gloxx Tower Baby
Your DNA was once human