Gassing Temptation

All right, there’s no control and no lead to believe in,
Au currant contagion could be the reason for seething
Emotional sparks spraying out from a shuttered room,
A collective stutter racks bodies of facile conviction.
Gone to weed, wild growth of clever entendre shot
Across select bows for cheap access to schemes
Unfilled, unstilled by manipulating fingers, probing all
With a ravenous and rapacious will to conquer.

Looking for condemnation and a sickly sense of history
Culling and calling us to submit to Oedipus and Franco,
Dictators of will and not, abrogating an abomination shared
For the warm feeling of emotional fascism brought forth.
All the care patriots take care, strangling the public discourse,
Drowning it like kittens in the self-polluted river we collectively
Piss into, barking our opinions loudly and braying laughter
Convulsively, almost faking at real need, almost really needing.

There’s a hulking father-figure adding it all up, doling out
Kicks and cuffs and limitations with indiscriminate passion,
Cashing the checks and checking every move for transgression,
Drooling with slack eyes drifting, looking for every bad son.

Suck up to the creep,
Let him f--k the sheep
If it’ll keep him busy,
Keep him stuck in a rut.
Don’t laugh at the clown
Who mercilessly kills souls,
Claiming higher ground
With snide sardonic simpers.

Karma doesn’t kick in fast enough to balance these crusted scales,
These night sweats of induced fear, a patriarchal legacy smothering,
Stealing even the shallow breaths from the silent son’s dreams,
This parade of failed revolutions, this required shroud of weeping.
Thus rage kicks in, a white hot need for justice pounding temples,
Bursting out hard and brilliant, no requiem sung for sorrows past.
Revenge is not always best served cold; sometimes the very heat
Of the moment can thaw a frozen core, releasing feelings at last.

August, 2004
© 2005, wordlackey