101816 real deep

October 21, 2016

Alright, so I got this situation
When I take a look at the roots of what we call “civilization”
It’s an indication of a complication with no vindication
So this is me, expressing indignation
Deliberately, exploring intersectionality

No liberal tendencies exist, no cliche
nor laundry list to hide behind
(fellow activists raising fists high above disintegrating pride
like an angel of mercy come less-than-gently to remind:)
uncheck that box beside “peace of mind”
“rough” doesn’t even begin to describe
the road ahead, in look, feel and ride
and underfeet quicksand surrounding
like an ocean rising tide.

No lifeboat, ship sinking by design
drowning elite stay afloat climbing islands in the sea
rising from the bloated bodies of my kind, piled miles high.

At what point exactly do we take the hint,
turn the other cheek, and read the lines between the signs to see
the tentacled beast, ponzi scheme society
expanding, no escape, drag us all down to its dinner plate
one choice in fate determines how we relate:
activate to starve the beast, or roll over and participate.

Beware the offers of silver-tongued sycophantic sloppers to navigate
with guidance given through fear and hate, the choice seems easy:
stay the course, reproduce control of life by force
fractionating solidarity, divide and conquer remains the creed
rob Peter, pay Paul, making enemies of us all
armed to the teeth with stiletto knives
saddle up, stabbing backs, shiving sides, cut real deep
with that lateral animosity, we get by
inside a warzone monster of our making
over ten thousand years ago, taking
its sweet time to grow, optimize and learn its set
…does any of this sound familiar yet?

¿ʇǝʎ ɹɐıןıɯɐɟ punos sıɥʇ ɟo ʎuɐ sǝop˙˙˙

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060615 temporary substitutes

June 6, 2015

060615

(life implies)
work to destroy
our casual, ubiquitous relationship
to addictive colonial commodities
–exorphic tools of control such as
sugar, grains, chocolate, coffee
the so-called “English breakfast” tea
and the rest of the global spice trade–
to watch every privileged life fade from view…

…privilege:
subtractive zero-sum civilized pyramid schemes
describing domesticated lives less-screwed
fools survive floating by
on top the drowning poverty crew

accept no temporary substitutes
like machines that run obediently on juice
and when the juice runs low
run back to the chattel
just a stone’s throw away
prisoners of an imprisoned
privileged few work the fields
night and day, nothing new
now hidden
behind the global technological veil

prepare yourself
when the liberal fair-trade fantasies fail
when slaveries stutter and lapse
imperial economies collapse
beneath the revolting tide of collective feral will

gladly say goodbye
because bodies detox and tastebuds adjust
while we discover exactly what
the land beneath our feet offers us

want liberation
in your body, soul, heart and mind

build genetic allegiance and trust
no willing addict of denial
expressing narcissistic preference
for the next fix, mindless
empty undead hunger-driven lust.


070710 tunnel vision

May 9, 2015

070710

we all play our parts in the game
bent hardened links in the chain
some of us ride neutral class
sipping suicide on the train
in comfort finding others to blame
some of us are hog-tied up
to struggle on our backs, we lay
in desperate wait like deer
spread across the tracks
for the light drawing near

inside our oil dark tunnel vision
steam-powered industrial precision
destructive engines of creation
burned so many times before,
now numb to that once-familiar sensation
drowned sorrow in the alcohols of negation,
so much pain
real men withdraw in isolation

individualist collective
begs salvation
severed tissue connective
antisocial way to cope,
no empathy here, slippery slope
we hide our fear, hidden
turning hostile toward
the faintest spark of hope

once pure, now corrupt we are
the end of the line,
the bridge is gone
and we’re all out of luck
how many have you seen self-destruct?
these words are my last spasm and
this voice is my last breath
because it only matters
how old we are
when we stand
the same distance from death


Gosling vs Soup: A lesson in wild courage

April 8, 2015
A real-life event as told by the primary witness:
Dad and I were going over to your sister’s to bring dinner tonite. Dad had made a yummy soup, I made a salad. Dad wrapped the pot of soup in a towel and put it in the back of the car, same with the salad and salad dressing. Dad was driving down Hwy 224 when both he and I spotted three tiny new goslings trying to cross the road. Dad slammed on his brakes (The driver in the car behind him slammed on his horn). Dad jumped out and, despite stupid drivers whizzing by, assisted the goslings out of the travel lanes and then up the curb, to their waiting and freaked out goose parents. In the meantime, back at the car….from slamming on the brakes, the pot of soup slid all the way forward (by the way, we had the seats down in the back), up against the front seat, then tipped over and spilled all over the back of the front driver seat and floor….

We spent the next hour at your sister’s mopping up soup…..the dogs helped lots….

Zombies don’t stop their car for others (especially nonhumans), let alone get out of the car to help them navigate the ridiculous and unnecessary dangers of the toxic concrete death strips scarring we call roads scarring and bifurcating the world’s life support systems.  As microcosms of the rest of civilization, zombies run down life, perhaps only wondering in passing why “those stupid animals get in the way.”  Here’s a toast to the wild courage of uncivilized folk (humans and nonhumans alike), and perhaps many more pots of spilled soup (ok, maybe that part is avoidable)!

I encourage readers to prep for the zombie apocalypse, because it’s here.  It’s now.  And it is us.


093010 unlocked doors

March 10, 2015

093010

unlocked doors and broken windows
active days and brilliant nights
carry the flame, share the spark
follow fate wherever she goes
don’t be afraid, embrace the dark

climbing around on
crumbling foundations
clumsy, stumbling, collapsing
beneath its own weight
caught, tangled like a fool
in its own downed powerlines
desperate, drowning, disappearing
in a shallow ink-black pool
of its own greediness and hate

civilization tried and fell
to a silence that indicates
only the machines died
freed from our enslavement
we stack them messy side-by-side
decomposing bodies in the shade
feed the trees whose roots create
space for plants that grow through
cracks in the dead pavement

help us find our way back into
somewhere between work and play
there’s always more for us to do,
and if you don’t look for happiness here
then happiness will never find you


102510 decadent few

March 6, 2015

102510

its lies are often felt
but seldom seen or heard
its presence will cause
good will to melt
without speaking a word

its angelic eyes beg,
“trust me, please!” while
its hands caress the knife
its every breath a toxic lees
to bring a wilting end to life

its voice will make us crazy
and lull us back to sleep
its verse of laws and nightmares
scare and cow us into sheep

by its lights we turn from life to toil
in exile or depressive mood
by its work we turn from ripe to spoil
poison now in all the food

its economy demands we domesticate
ourselves and others, to exploit and hate
its schools merely teach us how,
while its technologies facilitate

through and through its decadent few get by with bliss
the arbitrary result of neither hard work nor laziness
while the rest of us fare not so well
drowning in this civilized Hell…

don’t fret too much, learn to give
and love, its how we really live
laugh through pain, smile through sorrow
you bring the booms, i’ll bring the crows
and we can raze it to the ground tomorrow


061912 green noise

October 24, 2014

061912

small chamomile sprouts

like solar-powered hope, springs eternal
from the bones of a compacted, desolate earth
in a discarded urban lot.
It quietly proliferates

like so much green noise
grows doggedly without notice
tucked away into the brown background
amongst the edible weediness of abandoned fields filled
with wild carrot, wild lettuce, dandelion, catsears, and clover.

Lots and fields like these
stoicly flank the hubris of flatulent fossil-fueled machines
groweling and howeling myopically
along the heat-baked blacktop of the adjacent throughway
punctuated with the deafening roar of jet engines
coming and leaving a few feet overhead
as they tear through peaceful dreams
like skyward sign posts
aggressive, incoherent, screams
just as i whisper to you now…

welcome to civilization, where
small chamomile sprouts

like solar-powered hope, springs eternal
from the bones of a compacted, desolate earth
in a discarded urban lot.
it quietly proliferates…