Death's Dream
Death dreamed a war of peace, a truth of lies
The soldiers are hacked and stabbed
with words of optimism
Skies full of trails
raining down some hidden purpose
A hidden parade of jets leave
their chemicals to wisp and fall
Souls are traded on ebay
Numbers racked up in PayPal
A Nation of Addicts crawling over
bodies for green dollar bills
Stealing watches from corpses
along the way
The bickerers, the steadfast and true patriots
with shiny pearly teeth in the front
and rotted pillars in the back
The cosmetic circus of marketable ideas
waltzing like pink hippos
leaving no child behind
leading the dance of death of minds
destroyed by lameness, starving
pathetically curled up like babies
behind game consoles
I saw the best minds of my generation
Doing not a fucking thing to make
the world a better place.
May the future look so bright
May the godzilla we have wrought
befriend the children of the apocalypse
That's how it works in movies
That's how it works in newspapers
Morphing words, twisting around
like four-dimensional rosebushes
last week they were something else
entirely, now no one is reporting the
accidental pearls. Instead, they hide in
recycle bins unavailable to you or i
Swept under the rug and everybody's happy
at tuesday night pizza buffet,
sipping on beer and watching the wives
of other men, complaining about spotty
forks and the sudden rash of obesity
and we all die a little every minute
Resistance is dying
It is yesterdays fasion to fight for anything
but the opinions of others like us
It's the wrong shade of red, the neckline is
too high, it doesn't show enough skin to
hide the person behind distant panoramas of lust
and greed, we suck needlessly on our own
unfulfilled desires, turning them over and
over in our minds, worshipping the sex of
the beast while it tears at our throats
with talons tattood with prayers
and steals our technology and turns us into
incubi and succubi always leeching and
destroying when instead we could be
at peace and womblike in a state of
being and becoming human evolution
put off for the sequel after the worst
has yet to come after the golden sun
of our godlike egos lights up the skies
and rains black poison on the land
this is the truth we want, but it is
not what is. This is the dream of
a harvester of minds that has no feeling
of its own because it isn't real
like you
or I.
posted by novachild @ Tuesday, September 28, 2004,
