Future in-law and order

you might say, i'm still waiting to get back to my right state of mind
meaning yours,
price-tagged, civilised and ready for export, give or take
a little force, whether I like it or not
and i do
love the extras on dvds,
mochas, piping hot in a styrofoam cup,
paperbacks from every corner of the world, shipped to me as i please
for a couple of dollars,
this chew and swallow eyes-wide-shut bit; i can do it
with the best of them,
or not; but i could try impress you, to pretend,
there is no thought involved in transgressions against this life branded as no-name brands stocked at the dollar warehouse everything has become,
a false ebb and flow,
around the intelligence constipation that has shocked and awed us into admiration
courtesy of respectable architects like you, kicking up stardust in your wake
or is it toxic waste?

and no, we don't all agree
that life is what you invested in the making of, even though i see, from the mass produced buy-one-get-one-free philosophies lining your shelf, temporary relief
even you hide from yourself, the modern way
not jarring enough to affect will,
it hangs just right on the hand-me-down legacy you hope to hand down
to him,
so far away, and so close to the
the patented truths of pat roberston and osama bin laden remaking god in their own image
men of war, they say, pray
to the biggest gods on the horizon..
skyscrapers
falling to rubble in the name of liberation
it all looks like paper trash to me,
advertisement packaged as news fucked by the murdochs of the world
businessmen building empires of hard mistruths won by
big guns packaged as prestigious news, junkies to the ambition embedded in confidential words churned out by war ministries,
yes, hindsight always looks higher when you're on the decline, religiously guiding bullets
in the name of peace, and a bigger slice for a few

but this forced peace has never sounded so terrible to me
especially coming from you

maybe i am
playing russian roulette with myself, my moral decay evident in my ignorance
of timer-scheduled godliness, in my failure
to mimick the architypal timidity of what should be girls like me,
would i make it better if i said
i was not lured to the other side, not a broken soul desperate to shake off the angst of a life mislead, nor a mind disbelieving of its innate purpose
i've not slipped backward,
but somewhere along the line i fell off the straight long narrowed, turned my head to the left from chalky signs pointing to the right,
fell, only to find myself, one more body outline
on the street, casual, collateral, to the war on numbers,
you're not savvy to some great wisdom, you just don't want to know to see, the cost
hiding in your shadow

no, change isn't easy to live
and there is nothing peaceful about a revolution that start with millions pushing,
i have watched as my toothless mother blends life into a smoothie
so easy to swallow, but i cannot be your oliver twist,

you lose that subtlety when you fall with nothing to land on
only to find the last signs of life, still twitching after being smashed into the kind of submission that can only accompany dark nights lit up by deadly flares of despair and something worse
but like superman and reality television, real life melting into delusions of granduer, have fooled both you and i, into believng that we can live without the waking the dead, that someone else will do it for us,
while we live like the dead and pretend,
that we didn't know anything, get anything, more than duct-tape to seal the deal,
but at the edge of this, surely you see there isn't - will never be, enough tape to keep this shit together?

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