Of Recent
I create art
and they plot my death.
Artificially Alive
You are a rotely opinion-headed zeitgeister—
already diagnosed and hooked up
to the slow death of a dystopiclly present
despot's di(e)ialysis machine
creating simulacric smackstackey musings
while antiquing at abattoirs
and rewriting history—
a new fad a bit too viciously abound for my taste.
The Beginning of the Beginning of the End
Ever since they moved Mexico City to China,
the world's confusion ratio went up big time.
Quick and vertiginous as spontaneous skyscrapers.
Around the country, morals have eroded to the point
they're virtually nonexistent—and this is how Fascism will sneak in. Already has, really. I saw it with my own eyes. It happened in the abandoned parking lot behind the movietheater—and, within the movietheater. Soon, a vicious menticide will overtake the country.
Throughout history, fools and philosophers have thought Beauty could save us. I never thought that. I did, however, think Truth could save us.
Now I know how wrong I was.
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