lowh

i am being a man
in the twenty-first century
right?
mull it in a house that isn't mine
drive it in the four-door
that i didn't pay for
grayscale friends
all they got is
to work so hard
it's a paranoid feeling
waste not
want not
it's a horrible feeling
want that
earn that
go to the hopeless place
i hear "this too shall pass"
i hear my mom and dad,
the vanishing middle-class,
anti-bourgeois strongholds that
never had a chance.
hail all the christ-like men,
how they put us on the fast-track
keeping us honest
with the grace of god
and this precious protestant humility!
it's a paranoid feeling,
pray not,
want not,
and i've been praying lately.
schadenfreude; pleas
of the proud agnostic,
honeyed despair of a
maybe-atheist!
they say not to put all your eggs in one basket,
you know?
so, i say,
"faith was spurned yesterday
and today it can't be with us,
not in a world stuffed with free,
awful information,
overgrown by true-grass,
infested with parasitic
sure-shots. there are no
jokes so cruel as
these ones that money-humans play
on human-humans.
which of these
were made
in your image?
are you
the jokes?
they've been saying that
dreams are self-absorbed,
then,
they dream of
lazy men
who never work
all hedonistic whores
anti-happiness bores
chucking stones out their
windows at a world of
peace and
honest chores.
do you fancy me
the ugly hater
who skulks in comment boxes,
screenplays,
--!!!i saw the best minds of my--
loud songs and
cackling flash-fiction,
nose turned up at the
world of the mature?
if you're out there,
i hope you'll let me know
that i am still a whole,
that i'm still free to go."
am i being a man in the twenty-first century?
or does it not begin
until i play the board game
accumulate
or
expatriate
we could forever spend
the sound of god's money,
if it were backed by gold.
instead
we must suck
the great gray dick of
the cynical mother-fuckers
who made the world this way!
and forget this...
this is just old teenage hate
with a twenty-something weight.
(who were ashamed of late nights
lying awake, salty with
wicked desire and
unfair gaps between-
who would wield proudly this lightning
if they be more
than still; would they
only keep it moving)