September 23, 2010

re: txt poem

If systems of belief or process demand
certain behaviors then such will be
the determinent of full membership
Ain’t no fucking mystery

Ain’t no fucking chansons either It’s
gimme this and stop doing that
or why DID you stop What’s a little
self-interest amongst friends

The random outburst is all
what’s left of the former force of
especially futurist manifestoes
It turned out the past figures after all

Garbage The City is coming apart
Every stairway down to the underground
a bleak pastiche of paint
peeling Saints and seekers urinating

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::say something::

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