Wash.

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the lyrical alchemist spat,

the beauticians howl,

unknown teenagers masked from real,

the drug addicts deal.

what distinguishes pretentiousness from idiocracy

is nothing, brainwashed we all are;

lifeless, this poem is,

the masses sear wonder, excuses of man screech abomination.

tonight’s living art:

human showcases of exposés of bare human’s flesh

the homeless walk broken, and torn, cast off without will

the suburban trophy wives laugh-

when the suburban spawn points, who owns humiliation?

all without love are homeless though,

yell hysteria as you politcians do,

i’m just a fiddling writer, empty you all are.

love, humanity ignores

we gestate pheromones, and breathe degenerate desire

the outcasts smash car windows and reincarnate with bloody fire.

filthy stockbrockers inhaling wealth

a loving wife, a nanny to her child

when the business man covers foreign markets,

is she your secretary or your mistress?

oh, the lyrical alchemists spat,

because the medicated crazies are damned as the rest,

cleanse us-for we wash ourselves in the world’s filth.





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