Please ignore most of the poetry on this blog. It is shit.

make believe and dead civilians

reading over old words with contempt

twisted fucking love poem after climax

and all we ever wanted was attention

surrounded by a mob of self righteous hacks


knowing my ill health, the smell of a tired face

masturbating for regular exercise as people are shot

i know with painful clarity that i am not a poet

or a musician or an activist and yet


i still say the words and my being is my mantra

know with some certainty that we are surely doomed

so wait to suffocate in this hip mono-culture

to whisper with absurdity at entertainment news


oh capital how i love you

with a giant c for cunt

a populous enslaved

and a never ending want


to not hurt anyone

but myself