The Poetry Marathon

the landlords bombed so much
that oil should be free
pinching continents
so tight they turn to USD

bribing our kids
with mcdonalds and caffeine
to keep shivering fingers
tapping on the screen

cut you off from your doctors
‘you should get used to the pain’
dying from their fentanyl
cause you can’t even afford cocaine

rent went up this month
but it’s 10 bucks for some jeans
if you don’t work hard enough
you’re replaced by a machine

spit the gasoline to the sky
until the sun sublimates the tar
while they pinch our pennies so tight
they collapse into a star

The sky is the highway forever and the world below is flat
and the dream of flight fills the air with dust
and coats the seas in gasoline.

Every child who isn’t hungry
goes to disneyland
to question the concept of the state.

We’re no more than a day away
from our brothers and sisters
all around,
and the rich try to escape to space
before it’s all too late.

qualquer lugar é lugar de estar,
o planeta vai girar o mesmo.
As pessoas queriam
o que havia dentro delas
e eles nos dizem
que não há suficiente para todas.
Então tira dos ladrões,
e dê para o mundo,
a riqueza que roubaram de nossas almas.

I hate falling asleep
because there’s too much to do
and too much to see
in the world around me
and this is a half-truth

really

I hate falling asleep
because when I have dreams
I wake up from them

I’d rather stay here
than be shown
where I could have been.

And although I have not earned the right, and never will, perhaps the devils will grant me the indulgence to do so. As Faust found redemption, through the Grace of Germanic Work Ethic and Beatrice, I have condensed the morality of the Tragedy thusly:

The eternal philosophy of feminine jurisprudence is medicine against the study of the worst of all pursuits: theology

The shining city
on ancient industrial hills
at the center of the great river
from which the waters
of the four oceans flow
lived the saint who sold
a parcel of land
the size of heaven
for pennies on the acre
so the billions starving
in chicago’s dark satanic mills
knew now where to go.

A procession of trombones
and french trappist ghosts
welcoming the huddled masses
onto casino riverboats.

Through the great wide open hole
between Liberty’s loving breasts,
those seeking fortune flight and fame
pass beneath the gateway to the west.

From sea to shining sea
and trinitite in between.
By geography and scripture:
A holy hungry fortress,
bombs bursting in the air,
a light unto the nations,
bearing gifts to all the Earth
like bananas and Japan.
First condemned to war,
then condemned to expand,
forever to conflate
people, property, and land.

Oh say does the banner
of the jail and the dope and the death
and the dumb and the hate and the want
and the pics and the porn and the cash
and the films and the food and the likes
and the lost and the scared and the law
yet wave in pursuit of the
hireling and slave,
the finally free and finally brave.

The hummingbirds don’t fly this far north
and hemlock grows everywhere.
But maybe with a little time,
when the weather gets hotter,
and the storm clouds dry up,
the little birds can beat their tiny hearts
a little bit longer
to take the hemlock away.

🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆
⚡
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
💫📛         🧨   📛💫
💫                    💫

🕝

🌺💐♥️🖤🕊🦜🦚🏵🥀🌺
💮☸⚠️😇☸☀🌙♎🧨🌠
💫➿🌟☣🚫🛐⏮⏮
❌♾

📳♀️♂️♀️📴
✪✫✭✬✮✪

🔁🔁🔁🔁🔁🔁🔁🔁🔁🔁🔁
♾

                 

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