January 16, 2013

chaining time to the ghosts of horses...

what have we sterilized

inside our happy thoughts
we use faded memory
to register apathy
on the gather screens
street swept eavesdropping  
built-in radio-electric telemetry
these biological metrics
were meant to strip mine
the genomic structure

we sell digital markers
for pacification by neutering
to pay for the material things
the hysterics call it mind control
most artists and lawyers
call it gold, but all the lambs
whisper, in continual clocks
of salvation, we always wade
through mists and morning
we are always eaten
by the lions

we will never say otherwise
no saviors can surprise us
this is how we are supposed to be
thus, meeting destiny at the corner
of sacrifice and almost too late
we always choose to step out
in front of the bus, lurching by
as death never says no, only hi


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