Friday, July 23, 2010

Evaporated :: WIP

To write prose is to breath with heavy lungs.
Asbestos fiber embedded in otherwise healthy organs, waiting.
Waiting to consume a whole for selfish purposes, foot to neck.
Bite the curb, nigger! They scream, and push to curb broken nose
shattered teeth.
Heart broken Liberty trudges the alleys and gangways looking for
bottles of love.
Emptied of all meaning, puffed, sails in oceans of considerable size.
Pissing into wind, stop.

John Brown's body sways in the gentle breeze, reminder that life is
sanctified but only in blood and tears. What's the value of life?
It's seen in the mangled bodies pierced through the heart with
hot lead and bronze spears. Waste.

Cable tow around neck ties each to all and all to none.
Disjointed cybernetic community brings us together by segregating us
to our locked rooms.

Savage beating of breast and head.
Disemboweled; slit from nose to penis, opened up.
Prostrated in front of altars to false gods and capital.
Soul now commodified and the body a prison.

Death is not reprieve, the sins(debt) of the father are always
revisited on the son, ten-fold.

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