book for sale

41wUsxvEqVL._SX322_BO1,204,203,200_

first,

thanks to everyone who has been reading throughout the years

second,

i’ve published a book of stuff from this site here.

(don’t worry. i left out all the really shitty stuff.)

please support the Benevolent Economy that we all hold so dear, and buy this book.

i am 30 years old, and although i have always dreamed of writing a book, i don’t know that i ever thought it would actually happen.

to be fair, i took the easy way out and self-published.

but whatever.

my words are in print, and i am happy about it.

so thank you very much for reading.

cheers to a better world someday… or right now.

whichever is fine.

sincerely,

image

your shameless author

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war chest

just park that jet on grandma.

put the tank in the library.

let’s store these grenades in that school.

drive that humvee over to the junk heap.

there’s a pond for that naval vessel.

this prison will go great with our dog pen.

course you can fly your drones where you’d like.

barbed wire? there’s more back in the baby’s crib,

she don’t mind. she’s little.

 

 

imitation game

this is a new theory of mine:

the lyme disease theory.

 

to start,

you may already know that

lyme disease is caused by ticks;

little parasitic arachnids

adept at

drinking the blood

of their hosts.

this is fairly well-known.

 

did you also know that

lyme disease is sometimes called

‘the great imitator’?

 

it is an extremely difficult disease

to properly diagnose.

it often mimics the

nightmare maladies:

fibromyalgia,

multiple-sclerosis,

ALS,

parkinson’s and

alzheimer’s.

 

a person close to a person close

has lived with an

alzheimer’s diagnosis

for the past three years.

turns out she actually has

lyme disease.

now that they know,

doctors think

they can cure her.

 

isn’t that crazy?

 

from the prolonged, sorrowful descent

into the incurable fog of alzheimer’s,

she may yet return.

thank heavens!

 

(so be watchful for ticks.)

 

now getting back to the theory:

it often seems that our

sick world is hurtling

towards

annihilation.

 

at the least,

we’re looking

pretty bad.

 

but,

perhaps neither our nation

nor world has

actually gone mad.

 

suppose we are

living with an unchecked

and untreated form

of lyme disease

which is

imitating everything we fear

in order to survive

within us.

 

perhaps it is the same culprit:

parasitic ticks.

 

the ticks descended upon us

only god knows when.

i postulate they’ve been

feeding from us for a while,

as our tragic symptoms

are well-advanced.

 

also, as ticks feed their

bodies swell.

the ticks we carry

should probably carry us

they’re so damn big.

 

they’ve taken purchase

on our aorta to ensure

they get all the blood

they need.

 

at first we were frustrated

that they needed such

necessary blood.

yet the ticks

are very

convincing.

 

and so we acquiesced.

“there is enough for all,”

we said.

 

“we’ll always have enough,”

we thought.

 

but as they drank and

fattened themselves,

they poisoned

our blood and

they’ve poisoned

our lives.

 

now our limbs flail madly

and rip at our own flesh

trying to end the pain in

our poisoned nerves.

 

now our brain

is deluded and not working

quite right because

we can’t recall

who we are.

 

now we live with a

craving for death, as

we see the future holds but

more and more pain

to endure.

 

and there will be more pain

unless we fight

this disease.

 

right now the ticks

are attempting

to swallow us

whole.

 

“your blood is no longer

good enough,”

they say,

“plus you owe us for

our service, so

we’ll just take

the rest.”

 

now the ticks tell us

“we are america.”

wasn’t that

our name?

 

the ticks tell us,

“we are in charge.”

the host is now

the guest.

 

the ticks tell us,

“you need us.”

don’t you

need us?

 

for so long

we’ve listened.

 

(we even dutifully listened to

their medical advice.)

 

but we are the body.

 

and a body near death

has astounding resilience.

 

before death

a moment of clarity will

come through the cloud,

a tunnel of light will

extend before us

and a voice will

erupt in our minds:

 

you are the body

that pumps the  blood.

you are the body

that moves the hand.

you are the body

that controls the voice.

you are the body

who listens to conscience.

you are the body

who bears all the fruits

of their pain.

you are a body

worth saving.

the tick says it was him who

spoke those words.

 

but the voice wasn’t like him

at all.

fuck this seriously

welcome to

post-truth,

god-money,

buy buy buy world.

where

the vortex of our collective ignorance

is swirling in the pit of our guts.

together

we’ve broken ourselves apart.

 

striving towards a store bought life.

a gate to keep out guilty thoughts of privilige

and poor people.

existing because economy.

 

fake-news land.

real vs. fake as in:

the russians are coming!

pizza-pedos hide in plain sight!

this election was a battle between two sides!

it all becomes real because

no one knows what is

fake.

 

schools flushed down the toilet.

left vs. right forever.

this hollow land

viewed through a screen

is suffocating in its complete lack

of ambition and kindness and

purpose.

 

there is no other purpose

for everything or

anything other

than money.

bills on a pallet,

numbers in a numbered account

that no one wants you

to know about.

 

blood of the kids?

our greatest treasure.

humongous footprints of evil

that look like craters on a dead planet.

we are ants in the shadows of

cthulu.

bring me the head of terror and

i know it will be a

white man.

 

shuffle the papers,

say ‘i don’t recall,’

win the game with lawyers.

don’t forget to take

their curtains. i know

the baby is screaming in

his dead mother’s bleeding arms

but there’s a market

for tragic collectibles.

 

there’s no fighting this monster

which is us.

the invisible hand guides us in relation

to one another, but

maybe we were supposed to be alone.

there is purity in the humble self.

peace in meditation, introspection,

silence

 

or we could just share,

give, awaken ourselves

to our own evil.

we could give relentlessly

to fight away our greed.

 

my dad has a poster,

“teamwork: none of us is as dumb

as all of us.”

we will destroy this planet.

hubris is what tells us

we’ll survive. that we’re

resillient enough.

we are the unsinkable

species. nevermind

the rest.

 

if you need me, i’ll be

reading books to kids in an

elementary school bunker

that is everyday closer to

being taken away.

 

and the kids,

all born since this war was 8,

well,

fuck them, right?

 

we will use them later

to die for our

what-have-you…

peace of mind?

 

 

from this

 

when gagging on

the stench

of death’s hot sewer

breath,

one remembers

the flower smell

in a lover’s hair.

 

i tell myself

fear is

transcendable.

 

runaway injustices

stampede our bodies

and stomp on our faces,

crushing air from our lungs and

shitting on our brains.

 

they say we’re dead, but

we still claw at

the lid of the coffin.

 

darkness is absolute

except for the light behind

our eyes that we cannot

seem to extinguish.

 

we get close in the dark coffin.

 

then she whispers,

‘i’m pregnant.’

 

‘i’ll save it,’ i say, and

i prepare the hanger.

 

 

but the baby comes fast,

faster than our wheezing

breaths.

 

it comes.

its little hand melts

the walls and eviscerates

the monsters in

our darkblind eyes.

 

this baby is so strong.

stronger than us.

 

we teach it all we know,

which we know is not enough.

 

for instance,

we cannot teach her how

to get out of

this.

 

our bodies turn to dust.

 

she is a seed in dead soil.

 

elsewhere

i remember st. helens

and the life after

explosion.

 

i see a slender fawn

gallop through a

world of ash.

 

i cry and see it rain.

our baby sticks her tongue out

to catch the water.

 

her mother taught her that.

 

i think,

maybe she will make it.

maybe.

 

she just might.