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goetian Poetry.

a wicker man’s sense of consequence… human lessons of bondage supreme… as every psychotic sequence leads us to perilously fathom whether or not to ingest the chemicals like their target audiences are supposed to, using outright lies to move us to buy the goods which poison us to move the profit machine along, but there we have been had as the flaky customer drawn into an argument by the better business that claims their case… always first to assume what is NOT the case with all of our myriad details and decisions creeping from life to home and back again into the streets with fists in the air in the land of hypocrisy, with a rage against the machine that provokes at this world made up of jails and churches, and the only guide is one’s magical reinterpretation of what is Here as the devil’s playground in a scary semi-urge of material made from meat deciding under limited constraint… somewhere is that secular mysticism that makes a defeat seem the more likely option for our team once we reach an away game with absolutely no way to win, we realize that we have hit that nowhere place in the psyche where the gilded cage is ours to blame, and the hideous beasts locked away are ours to keep like gems that sunken treasure chests keep for pirates who bear their souls fighting the good fight against the chains of moral issue… but at the same time these scoundrels were among the many who were always to be found taking things way too far without public places to anchor onto for most of their lives, and hiding even among the hidden as in the wilderness of humanity savoring stories of the unknown expression of wholesome a fiery goal as though said with a certain personality without dread at the coming end as that collective dark matter remembers something that resembles, not unlike a certain disreputable reputation that becomes evermore the legend that random people savor and are found to sometimes sacrifice to that altar of gods unknown using faces of the avatars of lost epic cultures beyond this form we are transmitting to you… the television has become your trainer and is equipped to discipline you, outfitted with the latest technology to impair your thoughts so you can follow sentences that other people want you to hear for your own good, but we are not finished quite yet there my friend… the timing is just right to send the message your way into your specific direction, but you can refuse my council because there are few times when words would fit ever into all possibilities at once as somehow the sublime negative mirror takes control when few considerations seem to drape over neck and shoulders as a villainous attire, the vampiric benevolent form in a silhouette distracting from the positive light disguised as the fickle guardian of the crowned and chosen ones around in the darkness wandering longer and longer more… we mock and the mockery hits us as deeply as those invalid in tiny bits feeling dirty because the plastic wrap under their trust to catch the urine and the future stock in worth, critical brazen values gone social in spite of a functional youth under the magnifying glass authority brings around to put judgment over the shocking majority of truth just to keep the status quo locked tight in silent rebuke of the pleads of troops and families alike, and all we will ever see is the casualty that occurs from “honorable” warfare in the destructive crucible of a nuclear aftermath and mushroom clouds as they one day abate… the pre-apocalyptic goes on without a word except among the higher beings that can smell the stinking turd dropped by one of the lesser trained flunkies that go around acting out like a rabid monkey, and there are few ways to avoid what is already in motion when it appears from behind the scenes of a mutual indiscretion that completes the social puzzle…

Thanks, khet.