Fit in with the maniacal standard!

By
Let's just pretend, pretend, pretend.
We're happy, we're happy, we're happy!

Though we'll never feel it
genuine. Again.
Because we never bother
to look. Instead,
we push them down.
Trash compacter -
All that pressure.
Till they form
The ten-ton dense, oblong mass
at the bottom of our stomachs.

We feel it for a while
The hovering whisper in the back of our minds
Till - Oh! It's biology.
Our brains:
throbbing masses of tissue and nerve,
overcome.

And signals
Zip. Zip. Zip.
through our plastered skeletons
Stuck open, exposed
Lying paralyzed, trembling cadavers
In this sterile life
This formaldehyde-filled world.

The operation's complete.
A new woman!
Sits up, the stainless steel squeak.
"Doctor, you've fixed me!"

Because she wanted
so much
to forget...
she did.

Oh Body! I've got you.
And Freud was right.
The mind does crazy things when wounded
Betrays it's other half
Well, what did you expect?
It's so inadequate
It can't even think for itself!

So what do you say, folks?
Let's all be like her!

Will yourself to forget
And soon
It never happened.

Fit in with the maniacal standard!
Pretend, pretend, pretend.
We're happy, we're happy, we're happy!





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