Dead time
Hanging around
Waiting for life to begin
Waiting for the bus
The train
Escape, escape the state,
That administers you out of existence,
Herds and milks you, for its own profit,
Wastes half your money and steals the rest,
Knowing you to be stupid, placid and weak.
Who rules here and who is ruled?
Who holds power and for what is it used?
The stupid English, laughing through gritted teeth
At the life they feel impotent to change,
Strangling their own unfeasible aspirations
With twists of irony, as if wringing chicken’s necks.
Some chemical compounds
Smell-at low intensities-like flowers,
And-at high intensities-like shit.
Red wolves of lust chase through the star-forest, ravenous for the absolute.
Just wait till time drops the other shoe.
Perverse desire, why fasten so on unattainables,
When the real is here and now, yours to adore?
Raindrops like shooting stars slide diagonally across the pane of the moving bus.
My life seems such an oddity,
Bizarre, disjointed,
Half-genius, half-nonsense.
Should I fall into the sun,
Or make a break for the outer darkness?
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