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Refusing To Be A Man
I'm not going to try to tell you that I'm different from all the rest. I've been subject to the same de-structure of desire and I've felt the same effects; I'm a hetero-sexist tragedy. And potential rapists all are we. But don't tell me this is natural. This is nurturing. And there's a difference between sexism and sexuality. I had different desires prior to my role-remodelling. And at six years of age you don't challenge their claims. You become the same. (Or withdraw from the game and hang your head in shame). I think that's exactly what I did..
Pigs Will Pay
thought, word and deed once sloganeered, a reaction undefined, the battle-hymn, the mantra of a once unfocused mind. but as logic tempered anger, still inspired but now informed, the 'pigs' we'd turned to caricature became far worse than we'd warned, morality enforcement based on the interests of a state, coerced into concordance and threatened into place, it's not just isolated incidents of cop-jocks kicking ass. it's a flicking war machine protecting the wealth of the employing class! and you pigs will pay in a big way. what a stupid thing to say. you'll pay for the guns that you've used. the minorities you've abused, you'll pay for the blood that you've spilled and the innocent (or 'guilty', for that matter) people you've killed..
Purina Hall Of Fame
Sleeping masters roused to burning homes from beds.. Steeping toddlers plucked from their watery deaths: ribbons, plaques and soft-soap are the ephemeral rewards paid to the slaves whose selfless acts accord a higher value to their masters, while parting gifts (bolt pistols) console the rest..
Ordinary People Do Fucked-up Things When...
Words can't do justice to pain. Seems like they can't feel a thing. Ordinary people do fucked-up things when fucked-up things become ordinary. I can't promise utopia or a better world. I have no clever lures. No harsh punishment if you don't bite the hook. It's a world of shit or bust. There's no escape from disappointment. When you commit heart and soul to earning your place, someone else will have to cheer you on..
Oka Everywhere
the best thing i ever saw on tv was that s.q. (securite quebec) cop catching a bullet with his teeth. condolence, madame canadiana, but your husband was a fucking (stuck) pig. but this song's not about some romantic account of history. it's not about martyrs or mythos or heroes or burnings-in-effigy. it's about a native kid flipping her lid just trying to keep some self-respect intact. it's about an oka the size of a fist in resistance and a will to fight back... and the girls at work, they still deny their racism. they claim tolerance for all..
Ordinary People Do Fucked-up Things When Fucked Up Things Become Ordina
words cant do justice to pain seems like they cant feel a thing.Ordinary people do fucked up things when fucked up things become ordinay.I cant promise utopia or a better world,I have no lures,no harsh punishment if you dont bite the hook,its a world of shit or bust.Theres no escape from disapointment when you commit your heart and soul to earning your place,someone else having to cheer you on..
No Title
Disregard their suffering, spoon-fed fuck taught not to care. It's easy for you to think everything is okay, this is okay?. I've never seen worse, they want what you have.
Note To Self
No-fly list. No-drive list. No-walk list. No-talk list.. No muckraking journalist left to take stock of. the wholesale omission of outside perspectives..
No Exchange
I never promised you nothing,. never said I'd be your perfect shackled slave.. If success to you is measured in dollars and cents then I decline.. That's nothing. That's not my dream..
Natural Disasters
In which god's name will we be killed? Who's most righteous? Who's most terrified? When your parents left the house we would creep up to their room, to the drawer beside the bed. We would pull out the shining dildo. One side dink, the other side Jesus. Not hedonists. Not atheists. Churchgoers. Blockparents. I wonder what lurks in neighbors' drawers? The most pristine are hiding everything. Is this our "decaying society"? These are the married ones. What about the others? Don't condemn your life to be riddled with shame. Everyone's hands cause natural disasters..
New Homes For Idle Hands
Suburbs tremble again. Fearing the have nots at the window. Collecting their fair share. Guns and alarms aren't enough. . They demand justice. And every criminal locked away.
Nailing Descartes To The Wall/(liquid) Meat Is Still Murder
I speak outside what is recognized as the border between "reason" and "insanity".. But I consider it a measure of my humanity to be written off. . by the living graves of a billion murdered lives..
Name And Address Withheld
The following views expressed do not necessarily reflect those of the prevailing order, who prostrate to their naked kings, tailor the seams of funeral shrouds on foreign shores, but shed no tears for the dead of the endless list of informal wars - the justification for will be spelled out coming soon to a screen near you. I'm feeling less hopeful and so much less human as my days are reduced to little more than settling for revenge and wondering whatever happened to the kid that pledged "first do no harm"? Chalk it up to an overdeveloped sense of unbridled vengeance. Somebody fed me too much New Hope for breakfast, 'cause as the empire preemptively strikes back (again) and the voice of Luke's father baritones this is CNN I recall Arab kids slaughtered reduced to sand-niggers and rag-heads. And now I'm expected to mourn dead Americans? The executioner's willing citizens? I'm so sorry and I'm trying to think it through, but when the chickens came home to roost and hand-delivered matching funeral urns to the bully that never learns I could've swore I heard a chorus rise and fall wishing them so many more unhappy returns. But in every war waged, only kings emerged unscathed..
Middle Finger Response
Bowl of cherries in Waskasio Creek. A sylvan way of life for those who seek. none beyond a parkland mall. This land scape oasis now feigns city hall. And.
Mutual Friend
there was nothing remotely romantic about it. no hand-me-down sob-stories, either nurtured or genetic. so what was so goddamn important that i felt i had to shelve each and every one of my convictions? secured and mutually reassured of our consistency. but your defence rejects what (you claim) you believe. because what the fuck is so "sociable" about animal-confinement and torture, union busting, sexism and isn't strange how you don't call anymore?.
Mate Ka Moris Ukun Rasik An
Dickheads shit-talk, huddled single-file. First-world frat-boys and prairie skinheads. or mourn a murdered friend. who will never walk a mile. in this tiny woman's shoes..
Lotus Gait
I have this recurring nightmare:. Flailing pigeon, her broken feet. Frozen solid to the freezing pavement.. I turn away as if I do not see.. I have this childhood memory.
March Of The Crabs
We stood our ground waiting for the fight to begin. My eyes squinted at the sun, wondering if they'd swing or run. I tell no lie: jackknives in socks, they're all gonna die. Tensions rise. Pre-pubes swarm the hill like flies. Get the caskets ready, we're going to tear right through this city. That's if the anger don't, that's if the boredom don't, the drinking don't intercept this north-end horde. Who am I? Fighting a war that I can't win. Swelling with things we try to hide..
Life At Disconnect
Had they been the ones dying under the cooking sun, picking through the dust, scratching at the barren earth, had it been THEIR insides spilling into the sand, they'd see on cracking land their spirit cannot triumph. Take a breath. Sit back and relax. Enjoy your moment of peace. You'll soon be back in the middle. Prepare for this one to make you flinch in disbelief. When you catch a glimpse of those just following the paths that got us to where we are. Who are these human shadows with still-beating hearts? Why do corpses litter the road? Scratching at the door to our paradise. Who are these humans? So this is paradise. Beyond the distant hands of the world. Here we all think we don't belong but still bow our heads to our Emperors. Is this all there is? Maybe we really have nothing to say. Maybe we truly are just shallow and lame and we're all just waiting for the end, the spectacle, or some kind of catastrophe to bring us back to earth to stun our ever nodding heads. To introduce us once again to the one incorruptible as she flushes us from her veins. Kills us to live again. In case you wonder - I'm not trying to be cynical. I know how you feel - If your life's disconnect. In case you wonder - "What the fuck's wrong with me?" If it all makes sense you're the furthest fucking gone. They've got badges that they cover with their hands while they're bashing your fucking head. They've got graveyards that they'll fill with that head if you start getting anywhere. I won't pretend that we're on the winning end. But when did that matter before anyway? That never mattered before anyway..
Less Talk, More Rock
I'd like to actively encourage the toughest man. to dance as hard as he can to this, my song. And bring your stupidest friends along.. . We wrote this song cause it's fucking boring.
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