A Calling to American Culture
Go on and build those dreams with every breath you have left and take each step as if the crust would suck you down in. Listen to the songs of the angels we made up as children who taught us to rhyme with riddles and laugh with the well-needed jokes left in the smoky skies that were waving good-bye.
Go on and build all of those mini-malls full of useless novelty when really we die with the regrets of never having a life at all. No monument for your success, no shiny new watch can tell you when it is your time to go. but they will dance to the electronic music machine like the dead will rise again, meanwhile plant those seeds that gave you the vitamins you desired. Aren’t you tired?
Go on and wave those guns in the sky through the polluted pride guided by a simple marching band that cleverly misguides our hearts to and through war. Go on and wave those flags of filthy polyester and claim the name that claims to be so divine, so divine, so full of freedom and swine. What a farm we live upon, a concrete farm and we are missing the best part of it all.
Go on and become the cover of every magazine in the isle of every commercial building full of the cheapest self fulfillment. Swipe that plastic fortune and be proud of yourself for that embossed name you got there. oh, you must feel so accomplished, so independent, so in control but no, no no no, you’ve sold your soul unintentionally long ago to prove to the world you could grow up and drown yourself in the debt that only exists in our mind like heaven exists to those scared of dieing.
Go on and fill your mouth with sneaky insults and alcohol to escape the dreams you were too weak to create. God must have thought twice. One was a great idea the second was of the mistake of making himself known long long ago. Who would have thought the light was so easy to take? A miracle cure of an illness that reflects in every reflective object. We are everything we love, we are everything we hate, we are everything life and death creates. Go on and disbelieve me and diagnose me with every psychological disability, but I know what it means to be free, to be truly free.
So go on and take it, then leave it. Let the artificial success spit down the throats of your children and their children and mold those brains into tiny machines to trust that politics know best as they put tax on each breath. Go on and call me crazy, they’ve swallowed all of the halos we had left. they promise a better future, they dance in the nicest weather, but how do you put confidence on a structure built in total silence? blindness? a superficial gesture that gathers the pastures into the electrical fence when the storm peaks over the hills, swallow those pills children and begin to write the nursery rhymes your DNA will carry on. Go on, go on, go on…go where you are lead.
