The People

we the people want to see neat cropped hair,

televised revolution, tattoos, rock n roll,

conformity bought at surplus at sale price,

injected with individualism inducing steroids

and mollified with ego-indulgent hormones.

We the people want to hear music as over-processed as the food we swallow.

Cultures, millennia in the making, suddenly halted with an MP3 file.

The beat of blistering stomachs being pumped,

the rattle of cages, (rib and metal),

the gasping of arid utters

clipping beaks and slicing torsos,

we, the people, long for the conveyor-belt symphonies of your

Super neo-mega industrial coolness

We, the people would rather stick our noses up into the air than stop and smell the trees…nor the bubbling sidewalk for that matter.

eugenic elitism providing billy clubs by license of bloodline, remember the good ol’ days when “the people” simply meant wealthy, white, land owners?

rampaging corporatocracy armageddon wroughters,

if god will not answer our calling,

we, yes, the people will annihilate all his creations so that he has to.  ya dig?

We, the people would rather think than feel

and when we think, we think of nothing

and when we feel, hate prevails

we, the people are the blurry television station you can’t afford yet

impossible to distinguish, but oh so easy to discriminate and neglect with the push of a button.

did you know the world is a giant ball on a table my brother?

and you’re either pushing it toward the edge or you’re on the other side of it with a whole lot of weight against your back

please the people are saying

you’ve said enough now

he’s probably going to do a cyborg-subconsciousness bit,

we dont want that, our v-chips wont approve,

please don’t mention cyborg-subconsciousness

oh no now he’s talking about cyborg-subsciousness

oh the humanity!

the end of humanity?

for the love of humanity!


the people… the people no longer exist.

– Jon Paul Lourenco

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