Over 16,537,449 people are on fubar.
What are you waiting for?
Today I asked for death, following incidents of maddening proportion,
and they gave me disease on the rocks.
Little starlit laughter bouncing between realities
where stick-figure men come to full color
on a pallet painted cobweb of intricate thought.
All the work of late dripping bourbon rain
the scent of vodka staining my dreams
a masochist in merit alone,
finding the paralytic insects crawling from my pen
and introduced to the brain stem as means of our old religion
bow your head, and once may be saved.
Indeed, like school children adrift in sleep
with eyes closed against the keys
found the antithesis of our strife.
When upon we wake, cryptic messages begin to sense our soul
and through us the gods speak
with the roused blood of anarchy.
Cry, dear savage,
upon the page decorates in very plain
language for all to see
that tis' not a message, but only a plea.
if you find yourself liking this, or any other pieces here, feel free to check out 100+ works posted @ www.myspace.com/elysianjudas dont mind the rants, please
