scrolling through
a colonized culture
that tells us to
stay busy
be productive
work hard
for what a shame
it would be to rest

a capatalist cornucopia
of brainwashing ads
making us believe
we are not good enough
simply as we are
that we should work hard to become
something we are not

the messages they spoon-feed us
travelling straight to the subconscious
where our deepest insecurities reside
secretly piling up in their favour
as they feed more information
ever so subtly and carefully

The flu has pushed the shoppers
away from this litter of bananas
coaxing my tongue for better health.
Strange things play in the air
between the cashier and the customer
wringing alcohol on her hands.
From Kentucky to New York,
we've come to dress like surgeons
and fear the bad blood of a handshake
or dollar bill. I grab my things as night grows
outside the automatic doors. Under the rinsers
& harsh light of the produce aisle,
a truth dies and a myth takes its name.

Bill strangles their neck  
Barcodes are their language
Dollar signs in their pupils
Chasing the digital and physical
Money like it’s their long lost love

Sell out a million for a billion
Bloodflow, cashflow all im feelin
Keep pumpin till oblivion
Aint no ceilin and corpses pile on

Unapologetic ******* cash rules everything now
Pathetic stay low and when I pass you better bow
Autokrat choose when the deathblow hits earth now
Fully automatic sell to to the Congo, cash for ammo

God is cash and im feelin like money
Only one I'll let in to heaven is me
Peasant blood best remember fealty
Best worship the ground beneath me

I Keep pushin on the system till it cracks
While its delegates write me a paycheck
They lick my boots while I crush your neck
They watch as you suffocate fear the plutomaniac

Ego doesn't start a war.

Greed does.

Blood for golden honey, dripping down the lips of rich men finding immortality in money.

Ego may cause a war.
Ego is the lie that the richer-by-the-second men craft so brilliantly
and sell to the masses.

We can understand the blooming bruises of ego, a human emotion to unite us into unspeakable horror.

When we take whatever reason they give us, the blindfold will only come off as the bullet shoots through.

Too late.
Far too late.

A warning for you, my poor worker bees:

Watch for the flow of honey.
Watch for the sting of the queen.

I type my poems in Microsoft Word,
Which capitalizes when I don’t want it to.
Microsoft capitalizes on its digital monopoly.
Monopoly is a board game about capitalism
that I played as a child with tokens and play money.
But I spend real money on Microsoft Word.
I don’t want capitalism to rule my world.
My world needs rules. Such as, the writer decides when to capitalize.
Capitalizing Word makes it a brand name.
A brand name is copyrighted, as are my poems.
But do  I own the copyright to my poems in Microsoft Word?
Word has it that if Monsanto seeds blow onto your farm,
the plants they become belong  to Monsanto.
Word.

It's a crying shame
The pursuit of our own wealth lights a flame
That makes greed a game that lets the whole world
burn
As the world turns, the whole world burns
Money was invented for trade
But now those bits of paper twist hearts, make
slaves
Turns a saint to a sinner
A child to a killer
His finger on the trigger of a money game

Democracy, how much I adore
Though in the modern climate it is but a bore
When men of riches and capitalist pigs
are whisked away to office with the flick of the wrist
Through the help of the disillusioned
Of old, indoctrinated *****

Something is at war inside of me

Someone said to me
Unless you are
Tired
Stressed
or overworked

And I wanted to say
You just described
My average day

And I was afraid to say it

Afraid not to say it

Afraid I would be a downer if I said that

Afraid I would seem holier than thou if I didn't

Afraid that if I didn't say it I would seem like I was left out of
Or too good for
Our culture

And then I wondered

How did we get here

That they way to fit in
In our culture

Is to be tired, stressed and overworked

And how ****** that is