Deocoding Organic Material

Nothing to say. Searched through the sewer with its bone pipes and gray matter waste. Most people can form ideas from memories of past events they were never involved in. Call it a major religious experience, epiphanies gained from CRT and binary deities. Oh yes, they are all in on this conspiracy. These gods hide behind radiation pulling the strings like some mythical NWO. Their flock graze suburban fields and chant pop songs mixed with indecipherable acronyms. You could say these followers are "graverobbers' but then you wouldn't be any different. Neither am I.

Edison Syndrome

Mechanized individuality decorated like December pines

Induce praise through subliminal personality shifts

The armies have fallen to lead acetate-noise

Strained world revolves into perpetual gray tomorrows

All souls are compromised, all love is extinct

Night Recess

Gang members in stained jackets march down forgotten avenues. Electric vines are vomited from the cracks in the cement, gnawing at the numb cattle like starving cobras. Some boy asks a girl” “Want to dance in Dusk's caress?” when the moon burnt out centuries ago. One can still catch a glance of a star in martial law. The police adorn themselves in white robes and brandish manufactured chemicals at us unruly. To protect and pacify. We're already imprisoned in forests of gray matter. Life is aborted over and over again to produce stem cells for the prison system. Solitude through socialization. Remember, butterflies always congregate but never speak. Love is revolution.

Six Sides That All Look The Same

I believe in predetermined lives, mine written behind the scenes. Invisible men with cluttered desks racking brains over a single word. Work it, babes! Mine can't be as creative. Too busy forging hair from marble and brushing teeth in acid. Gotta look good for the starving dogs outside. Think green, my little pups! We can save the world with spoiled banter! Tomorrow I'll walk into a burning building and save a few orphans, then maybe I'll find true love in a clichéd showdown. Life's so simpler when my paper forefathers forge this personality for me.

Kill Me, Please!

I'm the bee's knee's, the cat's pajamas. A clean bill of health on my mind. Where's the beef? I find it all in a good year's work. Another day another dollar. Money makes the world go 'round! I save 15% or more on car insurance and so can you! Sign on the dotted line, let's have lunch! We can discuss the endless potential of plastics over some coffee. I take mine with creamer. Got milk? On sale for $29.99! And if you call within the next 5 seconds, you get this anti-zit cream FREE! So just call or send me a txt. Your need is our concern.