Fuck your resume
Fuck what's gone
before

Changed my password to ILLFUXYRMTHR69

And walked over to no jukebox but the one behind my

Eyes touched my head full of dye, bleating

Nice things are getting ruined all the time.

This past year, the year of the pandemic, is the year I grew old.

Unity at what cost?

The indignity of going along to get along?

Freedom is on the top of my wish list.
But different elements come to mind.
Freedom from what? Freedom to do what?

I hate all your ugly, stupid, too fat, too thin, too short, too tall,
too rich, too poor, too humorless, too pathetic, too unintellectual,
too pedestrian, too suburban, too mainstream, too short-sighted,
too ignorant, too conniving, too dishonest, too two-faced,
TOO UGLY girlfriends.

All revolutions squashed or co-opted.
Capitalism's rejects find solace
in the community of 12-Step programs,
addiction as group identity.

I want to inhale you, smell your hair, rub my cheek against yours, hold you close and dance in the moonlight

I want to talk to you, tell you everything: the important stuff, the trivial stuff, the mind-blowing stuff, the boring stuff

I want to hold your hand, sit in silence, sip from the same glass, eat from the same plate, sleep in the same bed

The world is a fucking torture chamber,
endless videos of shlock horror porn,
or, actually, it's more subtle than that,
endless cubicles of particleboard,
computer screens, perfunctory greetings.
I see people and I want to sodomize, rape them,
kill them in their sleep, or wake them up,
just to see the surprise and terror on their stupid faces
and to puncture their flesh to see the contortions of pain.