[dead man]

-




it's a quarter to soon
she'll be here at now to torture me blue. orange and maroon,
oozing warmer than strudel in a porcelain spoon
be immortal as you. imagine dragons, oracles too
as the forest resumed, forage for food, with night vision
but drew a Blanc like cork & a screw. black/white zinfandel
Marine machine. the Infidel, the Corps is a suit
like aces high when rivers die to quench a fortunate few
write, regurgitate these words. iAm Lord of the puke
help her gag reflex, relax like a gorgeous masseuse
meta-morphine abuse, pain damager, Kevorkian knew
that death is love. theory's incomplete before execution
it's more than the truth. fuck i'm ignorant, ignore me, rebuke
it's these narcissistic tendencies that force me to use
metaphors or a slew of linear coordinate cues
to reorient the normative views, rhyme orbital loops
around disorder to prove there's nothing formula-proof
corporate pursuits, money ordering troops. private exchanges
illuminate the Serpent's eyes like diamond engagements
silver knuckles certified, Michael tyson in paper print
ideas ancient as Iliad. Iller than all your top 5 Homer-sapiens
Divine Anglican, angel wings are depictions of vultures
feeding on the corpse of our derivative culture
Ultra-violation, cyberspace invented to hibernate
how can we connect if our intention's to isolate?
it's how we operate. adaptive psychophysical ratios
reacting to that shit on the radio. shifting endlessly,
it only takes a moment of anger to distance empathy
or a bullet wound to confiscate a lick of integrity.
in this second, i'm happier than i'll ever be, intentionally
but only because nobody will remember me .. i'm sorry
thankful for the memories. the endorphins accrued
but i'm stuck inside the cortisol blues, torturing you
cause it's a quarter to soon.
the time is NOW, make your amends -
chain yourself to almost, stop, and wait for the then.








DEADMAN