I want to lick
the open wound
of November
and taste
its gushing blood
as it drains
from a sieve
through the sky
to the tip
of my tongue
with a lustful tease
of what’s still to come.
All the suffering
and sorrow
of a society gone mad
is one quick fix
pill away
from being swallowed
as a hair-trigger solution
toward faux salvation
on the empty stomach
of a collective system.
So buy, buy, buy
the terrible lies
that help to line
their sleazy pockets
with a fresh
pound of flesh;
I’ll cut it myself
from out our chest
and send it
with a kiss
across the sea
where a singing siren
dances atop rocks
designed to crash
with a lure
of deceptive comfort.
I want to topple
the tower
of flashing lights
and smash
its windows of glass
to the ground
where they splinter
into shards
that slice through veins,
flooding the concoction
of a cursed
chemical cocktail
that flows freely
to the core
of final corruption.
So numb, numb, numb
your consciousness
with a twist of fate
served to order
on a silver platter,
and then wait
for golden feathers
to be weighed
on a rigged scale
when karma comes calling
for its overdue fines
of damnation.
Source