coffee shop rant

my Earth is wild,
I dream rumble in Shadow, and grow Broken…

broken, like my shattered dreams in combat with injected memories, programmed desires, and intricate seams sewn delicately by crude machines.

broken, like choosing your identity with a multiple choice test, an open book dialogue, check a box and contrive yourself to fit.

broken, like a species of animal defining itself by being beyond animal, put here by God to take, take, take, control.

broken, like poisoned lakes and polluted streams dammed and murdered by corporate teams for financial means and a diseased ego.

broken.

my Earth is wild, I dream rumble in Shadow…

rumble, like studying the symbols that give a regime power and systematically destroying them.

at war with them, in dark Shadows we rumble. passing vehicles illuminate momentary glimpses of the struggle, you see… hegemony, hierarchy, patriarchy, money, lies, deceit, money, war, disease, poverty, money… kicking me in the gutter.

you see, I struggle to get my blows in. you see.

rumble, like attacking the enemies ignorant enforcers, using sticks on cops, bricks on windows, bombs on dams, bulldozers on buildings.

rumble, like polluting the civilized atmosphere with screams of anger, anguish, and pain.

rumble, like the drums of the diseased youth taking back the streets. rumble.

my Earth is wild.

wild.

like hurricanes overcoming levies, tsunami’s enveloping shorelines, tornadoes reclaiming houses, wild.

like a single flower erupting in blossom through a crack in the sidewalk.

wild, like the unimaginable chaotic intricacies of the ecosystem.

wild, like a bear picking you off in the forest.

wild, like intense sweaty fornication in deep forest meadows.

wild, like Roy’s tiger finally biting that motherfucker.

wild, like no borders, no enforcers, no registering humans with the state, no banks, no laws, no industry, no representation, wild, like nothing defines me.

like you are not the boss of me.

My Earth is wild. I dream rumble in Shadow, and grow Broken.