just try to hide from hypervigilance
hijacking your every thought
for negligence e’er nigh begets
the desperate measures realized to compensate
for the disparity of that which should have been
see if you can circumvent the sequelae
of your affliction
usurping your disposition
prefacing the painting
through a palette of dissociation
won’t you disregard the residuum of mother’s machinations
molding minds into masses of crass martyrized masochisms
don’t forget the fleeing father
foregone by the crux of ego
deafened by the primal fears effectuating mis-conception
get over the degradation flagrantly inflicted by them
sweep this ruinous existence right under that ragged rug
brush off all the ashes gathered
falling from the burning bridges
walk the void left by their voices
flourish in the conflagration
show me a conflict of interest
that depicts one reason why life is to be something
only justified by fantasies of false ideals
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The first arrived
in an envelope incased,
nostrils flared, perfume.
The second, I guess,
may have been on that curious Corvid, in ‘Man at Crossroads’.
Third, held aloft, Blackbird,
on some wispy June evening,
The fourth, let’s say, Phoenix.
Cast into a Samhain cauldron, let go and then surprise, risen again.
Fifth, in faith – if even a feather.
Of a new sun birthed, not of woman,
but this man, shaman, and the One.
Trace the fortunes of the stars from Mary
Pickford to Steven Spielberg, you name them.
All you see are $50,000,000 mansions.
They prefer their Champagne served by little
brown people from Manila or Oaxaca. José
in the garden, María, the kitchen. Zeus steers.
The President of Nicaragua, Fidel, Saddam Hussain
are their friends. They attract the big stars:
Oliver Stone, Sean Penn, and Susan Sarandon, even
Brando, when he was in the mood. The American people
are guided by the stars. The stars care.
But there are those who see through the lie. Body
shaming must be draining for young ladies. Boys,
too, are forced to stand for inspection while burly
men like Harvey Weinstein stride around the playground.
The whole thing’s right out of Planet of the Apes.
The chimps are in power.
Won’t this sad movie ever end? It’s all so…
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