MICRODERMABRASION ON THE FACE OF DEMOCRACY
Okay I say here we go now down to the brown murky depths of sorrow!
Relay a canned sphered key logo to clown the slowed curled cuts to marrow!
Parlay delay decay slowed shroud of the blackest irking deaths run fallow!
I can see and hear no clicks echoed in ear shot.
Fuck it tuck it in or strap it up to hide the bruised sides from public eyes.
Zip up sew the trap shut sever the tongue I can’t stand the languid tonsils shining from behind mollusk hides.
Crow necked rubber glides shiver moral red tides in this broken bric-a-brac haste set to tick set it to bake for taste.
I can’t bare to breathe anymore pasty wet pet names.
All of you fucks need to wake up and get together
Try a little harder to spend a lot less and live much better
Realize the debts you’re making for future generations quaking in the womb still being filled with your toxic seed.
Don’t you get it can’t you see?
How all these fucked up little things that fill your dormitory lifestyles are tangled
With the lives of slave labor shackles?
Stop buying and quit rolling the dough, boiling up beyond the horizons of our achingly slow
Pink and purple shortsighted continuum of excess.
Ya better find new fuels for these cancerous fires for the winter is gonna burn deeper than cantos can quiver irreverent pathological seas.
Seized in the doorway of future headway pathos.
“hmmmmm ooooooh well I see what’s happening here
let’s all just cool it and think it through a little while
I’m not quite sure what to do but there has to be a solution
Maybe some kinda lotion potion, quotidian concoction to suffuse the pollution
Let’s just invent some algorithm to decrease population
Pour money into invention, a miracle fabric to stave off starvation
Anti-coronary pills, meta-stasis cancers, organic refractions?
With all this technology there must be a way already or soon will be?
For the future is here now dontcha know so we can’t be the canary
Don’t stress it chill out man take it easy and wait, you’ll see it’ll all be ok
As long as the sun lasts us through the day
And there’s still atmosphere to waft away the gagging smells of decay
Isn’t there an app for that? Hold on a minute let me check my screens
I’m sure there’s some answer in these oracles dementing clandestine beams
Of truth safety and security
That’s what they’re made for to make it all go away
And decrease post-fordist stress lines
Microdermabrasion on the face of democracy. ”