Poetry: Nature’s Dick

Nature’s force blows, behind a wall of blather, and changes people’s minds

it seems.  Like a mule kicks a hole out, and passion flushes itself down

the toilet full of outcast opinions.  A “retarded” referendum, in our parlance

and his one would assume, when he speaks straight, his glory shines through

with blood and menace, as arena becomes the law.  He bids you gig awesome

in the spirit pit, which is where the magic happens, fortunes are won and lost

life is the prize of the fortunate, they get to wake up.  To wonder to what we wake

is called atheism and roasted, mercilessly stuck with sneers and smirking

assholes who think they know anything.  And he is their king, or would be

eaten in a night of drunken rage, for steering to catastrophe, or it could be.


Destiny shadows itself, dons a tragedy cape, tipping his cap and winking

plunging us to the artificial end times, because Jehovah’s not coming after

all we need is the impetus and it will be epic.  Humanity is endless genius

endlessly twisted and sadistic, mass producing pimps and protestors

and poets and politicians, and every time you find the exit, and you climb

to the top of an even bigger box, you find a new ceiling.  But maybe not

today Mr. Hotshot, sweeping away on angel wings, opening the kingdom

of hell and knowledge, it’s for our own good.  The name will become a symbol

of power and evil, but seductive and hilarious, making memories a million.


The tarp will ignite, crafting of its flame nothing, and the faithful are alone

with wildfire revolt, terror twisting in on itself.  I pray my predictions fall flat

farcical and grim, such as to recall starry eyed, refiling hope as a thing

in itself that must be protected.  Hope is like a goat in a thresher, dead

permanently over and over, for whoever is never the one, and the cycle

spawns a rote manifesto.  See that the sky is falling, give up everything

you ever believed and the world is yours, because it will no longer be

theirs, it will finally all be all mine, and don’t worry I’ll totally share.

Poetry: Nature’s Dick

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