Contemporary Sanity

I have seen the best of my generation destroyed by sanity; Brains illuminated by the sickly yellow light of modern innovation.

Only so many words, shoved into one's mouth by the spoonful, 

                        can fit before one starts to choke.

For the youth of America, that final, desperate gasp for breath began at the age of ten.

           Now, the air that once grew trees and harbored grandiose

                                                                                             is thick with an orange smog.

Kerouac declares that one should write from the soul without ever leaving a mark or pen scratch behind. I have tried this endlessly, but now pens are extinct and paper ruins lives.

                                                             Breathing kills, writing kills, and I suppose living does too.

Camus uttered that one should choose life or a cup of joe, though, of course, he aint ever said that.

Nobody says nothin' no more, I sure don't hear it if they do.

I write with a fake accent, and with a fake name, and a fake heart. I write with such fakeness that reality is no longer available to touch.

               Modern poetry is revolting, and creativity herself is long gone.

I never know if it has existed though. Mayhaps the reality is that creativity is only alive if peers dictate it so.

    Nobody is ever great from self-proclamation.

                                          That's like if Jesus declared Himself a God and meant it.....

*Record Scratch* *Paper crumples and is thrown to the ground*

*World ends*

         So let's get is straight,

                               There ain't nothin' straight in this world, I ain't no square!

                                                        If Jesus could do it, you can too!!! Buy indulgences today!

The only Get Into Heaven Free Pass I'd buy is for the Queer folk on the streets, who are still somehow taunted for their majestic glow.

The only angels I see in this world are those who are thrown out by Churches and Priests and Popes for being who God made them.

                                                It ain't my fault that God made me a queer!

                                             If ya have a problem with it, consult His secretary!

But I write this with true square sadness in my heart for the reality of my angelic & exiled siblings.

It's the month of the f-gs and the universe still decides to choke us until we turn a pathetic pale... that sorta paleness you only see in a corpse...

...One of those corpses would look like everyone I know, with their heads shov'd into a globalized technological muddle.

Wires and switches replace their eyes and hearts. The asphyxiating that is heard in the echo-chamber of media 

                   is from the kids with words shoved into their mouths n tears in their "switch-eyes".

I used to be one of those kids, but now

I have died.