The Wake

I could write of the great divides.
In America.
Or the Americas.
But, rather.
I’d like to be with my selfish right now.
I would like to alter my state,
Of being, legally,
Become officially obliterated.
One night only.
Thanks folks, I’ll be here all week.
Herbert Hoover said:
Blessed be the young,
For they will inherit our national debt.
I say, Blessed be the embryos,
For we value their lives more than our own,
Than our poor.
Than our tired.
Than our weary.
Here I am speaking again,
Naively, foolishly, of the divide.
And on which side am I.
I still must get up,
And carry out my duties.
And carry out the trash.
I must face the faces,
I still must deface, to save face,
Public places. With a spray can,
I will rise, to alpha male status,
And forget the void behind me,
a hindrance, behind me.
I will be ecstatic, plastic sunshine,
A sublime meld,
intertwined, pop culture,
Prophecy, and pharmaceuticals…
I will be on the cover of your magazines,
I will enter living rooms and shit in T.V. Dinners
Replace them with prime rib and sweet corn,
Place medals of Honor, across the bloated hearts of the obese.
I will tear compassion a new ass hole.
And eat social workers for breakfast.
Not to be brash
Not at all Condescending,
Simply overwhelming.
Trying to play- A childs game
Hopscotch cross the great divide