+ It -

It may be a tad blurrier than life
It may be a pinch closer than death
Ironically equality lies upon the cusp of an idea---
It, it, it---
Seems to be great reason for all things;---
A bubble supposedly invented as a means for survival
Be and let be
“It” does not matter

+ Spots -

Occurring throughout the universe,---

much of our desire---

much of our reasoning had become rife

and in our years we felt like stars

celebrated wide and far

+ Screens -

Seven billion motion pictures astir
Though all are taught that they are---
To star in maybe one---
or twenty-eight…

+ Cookies -

Little siren in the scrimpy, black blouse

Sought it is not to hoist cookies before coveted mouths

+ Aftermath -

Beneath these horrid ceilings I hunker

By crooked tones of blackness a slave I am taken

The madness multiplies limitlessly

With the death that is each day & dusk

“We grow in numbers…”

Yes, that was the whisper ringing in my ears

“But fewer a soul within reach stand aware

Glenn [synchronized]

The constant of torment I bare

Anonymous Voice [synchronized]

The constant of torment you bare

Such merciless tones carved so murderously

So provocative yet so tyrannical

Glenn & Anonymous Voice [synchronized]

“To taste again of foreign crucifixion we shan’t;

The grief was far too great before!”

“And but of what authorization do they carry

to smite us as callously as they have?”

“In deep thirst we have been doused;

Lastingly we’ve been branded by the dualism

this troublesome hellion displays”

+ Black & Blue -

Impregnated by a serum of disruption

Towards a crippling era we have advanced

Strangers to the eye that is atrocity we are not

Rarely is the suffering worn so fine



Into a mockery our emotions have evolved

Favoring the appearance of a scab upon a toddler’s knee

A simple co-existence far from significant

As to the unfair hands of criticism we are lent



Beneath such gargantuan clouds do we tread

Though sharpened by misfortune warriors are bred

It matters not the wounds that are carried

But the shape that eventually is taken

+ America Walking -

A full year had elapsed

Since last we came to pass

Her whereabouts I possessed not a clue

Notably I took interest in the fact

That she now was working

At the venue whence first we had met

Those sandy, brown locks wavering

Accompanied by the most provocative lips America did see

Caused me to re-visualize assorted levels of elation

She was a walking religion

Yet fearfully she was in denial

Though judging by the way our eyes locked

Ultimately I sensed that still

Something was there…