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letra de simulacrumbs - lailien

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i cannot accord sympathy to those who do not recognize the human crisis

hear sub-sonic nursery rhymes
through warped, chopped apple seeds
they splice then breed charred cherry tree
doubled traces of
close those openings
places where he’s sucked she’s stuck
they’ll cut your fingers off
if you-ever-touch-your organs
or self

ha!
now he knows her teapot tantrums
and now she knows her teapot whirring:
nothing stirred

i’m n-body! who are you?
are you – n-body – too?
then there’s a pair of us!
don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!

how dreary – to be – somebody!
how public – like a frog –
to tell one’s name – the livelong june –
to an admiring bog!

i cannot accord sympathy to those who do not recognize the human crisis

so abstract and dead to think
feelings are something thought about
that feeling nothing
is default

as golden twizzlers yield asphalt prison
a sky made of stone
when with virtual saturation
desire has been flattened, google imagines
the culture uploaded
doctored in photoshop
is nostalgic for meaning
in a sentimental
reality principle

h-m-genous screens with
interchangeable views
genocide and kitties both
clicks
on youtube play lists

the psychic sp-ce colonized
in commercial ambience
neuters senses, demands compliance
trains minds to accept injustice

that keeps your heart
broken

‘keep it together’, ‘a lucky break’
these phrases inaugurated
when the word was body, material sense

now you wander through symbolic dungeons
viewing the ache abstractions of a body
that’s cosmic
figured as evil bankers, corporations insensitive
it isn’t logical, it never was

unstoppable
action becomes
seemingly futile and
king inertia reigns

there is nothing to fear down in the dark
it is a heart’s grief
for its weary wanderer waiting to flower
congealed and enclosed
as a somatic structure
the visual: an incarnation trap
that hardens the feeld
its teensy tiny memory pebbles
to a fixed image
easily mistaken as one’s self

but that angel
is free of substance, a guide
already liberated
joins you on any reflective surface
mrs. anonymous undoes the knots

through eternity’s battleground
where there’s no one to impress
as we tunnel stars
yr scope through mist merely habit
rooms rearrange geometry
perverse politicians a counterfeit fiction
galactic swimmer, denizen of andromeda
you are so beautiful

a new ground to be achieved at last
messiahs dance
in golden webbed
time machines

arise as a rose
a rose aroused

find this world you find them all

for from the many comes 2 betrothed
retaking your world that has been lost

and
you are
ready

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