I was sexually abused when I was a child,
the only light at the end of that tunnel,
is that it wasn’t done,
by a family member,

but it was done,
and I don’t even remember,
as much as Christine Blasey Ford does,
nor have I ever had to testify,

all I remember was the taste of that ****,
and how it taste like buried secrets,
the way they ferment and rot,
when lodged in the gut and not allowed to surface,

see we’ve all been abused,
and not a single one of us deserved it,
so now we serve this life sentence of guilty regret-ness,
which in turn as positioned me in service,

oh America The Beautiful,
when did we become so broken,
everyone’s got a story,
of either being abused or abusing,

watched the Judge Kavanaugh hearing,
watched Dr. Christine struggle to retell her tale,
under the glaring lights of the TV cameras,
under the glaring stare of a bunch of older white males,

I mean let’s put it into perspective,
here is a lady who’s held this secret for years,
and then in an instant she was broadcast worldwide,
for the whole world to hear,

her life will never be the same,
she’s admitted her most private moments to the public,
and all because to the highest court in the country,
this demon from her past is about to be appointed,

and I don’t know what my point is,
maybe I don’t have one,
like a lonely kid,
who’s only role model is a fictional superhero,

because he doesn’t have an honorable father,

a lonely kid,
who’s only friend is his pet dog,
that he takes faithfully with him,
we he goes on walks just to get lost,

doesn’t have a destination,
still he feels like he’s in a rush,
can’t focus his attention and is always impatient,
and don’t know where to go and only wants to find the love,

and when he tries to speak up to tell someone what’s up,
he’s just dismissed as ignorant and told to hush,
and what does it mean when a ****** predator,
has the title of Judge,

how can someone that acts so immorally,
be put in a position to weigh the scales of justice evenly,
maybe there’s no right and wrong anyways,
maybe nothing is for certain and there are no guarantees,

maybe,
maybe not,
but I do know one thing for certain,
wherever I go the trauma from my past is brought,

because I was sexually abused when I was a child,
and the only light at the end of that tunnel,
is that it wasn’t done,
by a family member…

∆ LaLux ∆

My neck hurts from the curves that come when I exert,
enough energy to network with these nerds and increase my net worth,
she’s an alcoholic hanging out at the bar I’m a workaholic raising the bar,
so take a guess at who’s efforts are worth more,

anyways here we are,
or rather there we were,
since I’m with another girl now,
and no longer with her,

I’m with a girl I met on Venice Beach,
who wears tattoos on both arms like sleeves,
which is ironic since that’s also where she wears her heart,
at any rate I’m with a girl I met on Venice Beach,

we had dinner then had ***,
a typical set of activities on any given night in this city,
and after she finished she said I’d crossed a line,
and she proceeded to tell me a story,

of how she’d been gang ***** a few years ago,
and how she still carries what had been done to her around,
about how she’d been drugged up then **** fckt,
then left alone bruise faced ****** assed on the ground,

no reason to sugar coat it,
men can be fcking disgusting,
that’s why if I was a woman I’d be a lesbian,
and I don’t mean that in any way that’s funny,

we spoke in our awkward line crossed post *** sweat,
laying there exhausted on my bed,
we talked about how men are such conflicted creatures,
how they can be so nice on the surface but so mean with ***,

how most of them are just looking for a place to stick it in,
and how sickening that fact is especially since I’m one of those *******,
and she left my house soon after but I didn’t expect her to stay,
especially since everything we’d begun to make had already turned into a disaster,

and as she disappeared into the night,
on a bike as black as the sky,
I thought about how she reminded me,
of the Girl With The Dragon Tattoo and why…

∆ LaLux ∆

Was told we’re not supposed to call it The 3rd World anymore,
that the politically correct term is “Developing World”,
It’s not 1st and 2nd World,
it’s Developed and Developing world,

I thought,
what difference does it make,
the same disparities still exist,
regardless of if the names change the problems remain,

we’re quick to look down on a 3rd world mob boss,
because he executes a few troops to make a statement to say,
but who are we to judge if you ask me all humans are fckt up,
and at the end of the day nothing really matters anyways,

we’re all Lethargic Aggressively Passive Agitators,
we’d all rather get lost in an Instagram Timeline,
than get found in our Real Life Timeline,
where the Beast of Burden are disgusted as Beauties that are benign,

anyways whatever where am I I’m flying through the sky on an Air New Zealand flight,
watching a documentary about Spielberg,
his phenomenal rise in the film industry,
and how some critics pointed to his rise as the demise real cinematographic art,

but critics are critics and that’s just it,
they get paid to criticize,
when in fact most of us artists types would argue,
that everything is art every scene on screen and in real life,

only difference is with real life it feels like there’s no break time,
that everyone’s forgot their lines & there’s no script,
the camera is always rolling the director never yells cut,
and even when you get frustrated you can’t walk of the set and call it quits,

what the heck is this,
what kind of sick joke is someone playing,
I mean don’t get me wrong I’ve got a great life,
I’m not complaining at all I’m just saying,

this mind of ours has some dark places,
everyone scared of sacred water because of Jaws,
it sparked a fear that lead to the slaughter,
of the majestic prehistoric fish known as the shark,

and that’s just the tip of the iceberg with Spielberg,
think how many other ways he altered all our perceptions,
think about his films about aliens,
think about her portrayals of various villains,

either that or don’t think about it at all,
just turn on a screen and watch a show,
and try to seize the moments,
because most of us don’t realize the movie’s over until the credits begin to roll,

oh,
here we go,
another poem about nothing that we find important,
like life and disparities and re-programming of soul,

but what does it matter anyways,
if life is but a dream and we are lost at sea on a boat,
I mean we’re all gonna die at least in the physical sense,
and I don’t know if that’s true but that’s what I’ve been told,

then again I’ve been told a lot of things,
got me thinking that someone isn’t necessarily wise just because they’re old,
so I take all food for my soul with a grain of salt,
because something isn’t true just because it was told,

Was told we’re not supposed to call it The 3rd World anymore,
that the politically correct term is “Developing World”,
It’s not 1st and 2nd World,
it’s Developed and Developing world…

∆ LaLux ∆

It’s always easy to say you love me,
when I’m naked,
I only have your undivided attention,
when you’re about to come,

what is it with lust,
and why do all mean act like predators,
walking around looking to stick it in,
while constantly trying to fight all competitors,

gross,
get your sick stick away from me,
I don’t want to fck I don’t want to ****,
I just want to make a way to get away from everything,

even though I know there’s no where I can go,
that will put me far enough away from men,
that I will feel comfortable enough,
to relax enough to meet a man and be his friend,

and I know that sounds a little extreme,
but so does being pinned by my wrists to a bed,
while I’m being stuck from the back my lust,
with a pillow pressed upon my head,

and you don’t even get it,
you think we’re making love,
and I try to explain this,
but you don’t give a fck,

because you don’t make love,
you make lust,
so I’m going to get ghost as soon as I can,
no love lost because all we did was fck,

it’s always easy to say you love me,
when I’m naked,
I only have your undivided attention,
when you’re about to come…

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆

Can’t sleep at night,
what’s worse I’m not that alert during the day,
not sure which cam first attentiveness or the sedatives,
not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg,

which came first,
the Chicken or the Egg,
which came first,
the bliss or this pain,

whatever never mind,
who cares anyways,
because the real question is,
who cares anyways,

who cares anyways?

These days most are too inattentive to pay attention,
too unobservant to deserve my service so they’re only purpose is to be subservient,
too distracted by everything expect the instance that they’re in,
don’t even have the strength to concentrate for the length of an entire sentence,

can’t focus on this moment,
when in fact that’s all we ever have,
so really if we don’t hold the moment we hold nothing,
guess is why I only wrote this poem to remind us of that,

as I lay here in this bed,
with so many thought crowding my head,
that I have no room inside my head for Z’s,
can’t sleep I’m wide awake again,

can’t sleep at night,
what’s worse I’m not that alert during the day,
not sure which cam first attentiveness or the sedatives,
not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg…

∆ LaLux ∆