The Great Freakshow In The Sky

To claim The Lord made humans in His own image one must think God an amputee clown performing coitus for His next botox injection

Aphrodite Gave Me Herpes

Always smart enough to close the curtains but dumb enough to leave my key under the doormat there's a female on the loose craving to gnaw away what little I have left of myself.

Blair, Natalie, Tooti, Jo (And Don't Forget Mrs. Garret!)

How naive to think the world is against me oh no it's out to get us all I just have the firepower to blow it away like a rat cuddling a landmine

The Only Reason He Hasn't Killed Himself Is He Can't Figure Out A Way To Do It With Pudding

Thought I was alone in this prescribed pill prison but asexual reproduction gave me the cliched horror child chained to my chest and he's blacker than the empty space that fills my veins from time to time.

Totally Radical!

Warning 1: This may offend some people

Warning 2: Nobody cares about those people

Lady Justice has always been a hooker twisting for the richest john and today she sits on the examining table while I gladly vacuum each judge from her tattered cooter and stomp on their heads with golf cleats in front of an audience of emotionless lawyers sat snugly in their golden cribs.

Too Many Prisoners, Not Enough Casualties

When skies burn with the heat of a thousand negative equations am I eternally sentenced to be the ocean washing nuclear warheads to shore?

Psychoetry

Like the naive soldier killing insurgents just to get back home I've tripped into the deep end so many times that I'm addicted to the bends so feed me some pills and squeeze me until my insides erupt from the throat because I no longer have a use for them.

"Kill Yourself" by Dr. Robert Wilson

Scouring the cherubs for a rusted razor humanity dives in melodrama deeper than a teenage soap opera while forcing its dick in our mouth and claiming to be the victim.

With Legs Wide Open They Claim They're Not Whores

Transmitting open invitations to molestation when we were bored enough with your adolescent qualms and roofie hobbies what we really wanted to see was the next scripted breakdown or your child finally finding Baby's First Electrical Socket.

Damn Right I'm A Misogynist!

Dear God escort the seed out of this endless moist desert before it suffocates! Beware the swirling blond blades for they have been sharpened on sheep's clothing one too many times. She demands payment for the hostage's release in the form of Stockholm slavery. Put the poor bastard down to ensure their future as a second-rate abortion instead of an F-list lobotomy. We've all stood in shock at the nations in her wake resembling a thousand forgotten funerals. Yes, we've established the fortitude to brush her away like a sick horsefly...until the teeth gnaw in and psychosis lives again

Don't Look At Me I'm Weird

Like drunken perverts, elected shadows toss money at strippers' feet as they dance on the Washington Monument. Capitol crawling on legs of disease refuses to be put down and the burden lands on the mandatory worshipers. They plucked technology from the tree of Eden and washed our brains in the juice. Their sugar melodies soften us up for suburban warfare fought in cyber battlefields and all they've given us are rusty insults for defense. Something is going on behind Miss Liberty's curtains but we only see outlines of softcore information. When they took the "I" out of "Individual" our future was sealed in brown bags and set on fire on our doorsteps. Smell the back of your boot and welcome yourself home, John Doe. The future is in your grasp as long you never reach for it.

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.

A Call To Flabby Arms

Here we go. I'd give the time and place of this writing but none of that really matters. All that's important is that we are here and dreaming with our eyes open. We are told to believe the world is rotating when humanity remains in stasis. Politicians and celebrities scream “progress” while forcing us to walk backward. We follow with a smile and a veiled insult, hypochondriacs yearning for freedom but too terrified to bend our bars. Some of you our probably saying “Yeah, he's right! When and how do we start the coming revolution?” And the answer is I don't know or give a damn. I was born into this afterbirth like all the other dead cells with nothing but my crippled motivation and tendency to complain. Life is an asylum and God is in all our heads.