cultural cataracts

your mind's eye is
clouded by
cultural cataracts that
keep it anesthetized to
politics of the
very worst. they
keep it blind so
it cannot see
that

this is not a democracy
if we do not democratize.

this is not a democracy; it's a
shitstorm of acts and lies.
of party politic
television commercials
that fear monger and hate
and behave inappropriately in
a way that's
so contrived.

clouded eyes
that disillusion. you
don't even care about
the greedy capitalist
exhibitionists standing in front of
you and your
children
exposing their gold and diamond
encrusted wangs that were
made possible by
consumers like you who
redeem the colonization and
exploitation of
indigenous tribes in Africa
that have no army or
representation to speak of.

no development only
the loss of farmlands their ancestors
tended to that
fed the tribes just fine before
they lost it and had
to start stealing
from the corporations that
moved in without asking.

cloudy tears
we will cry. cloudy
because we
will not understand why.
it will be unclear what
to cry at.
in short, it will be
synergistically induced by converging catastrophe and
hurt and
question. feelings of loss and
betrayal.

regret.

i can cry preemptively and clearly.
i can scream loudly.
angrily.

i will not feed or stimulate or
decorate your capitalist wang.

i refuse to pit my community against
itself; myself against my community.

take off your shell, your mask
of shallow objects that
create the image of someone
who has earned but
tell me you are nothing but a
somnambulant fool with
poor taste in
aesthetic and
no moral capacity
as a result
of some
unseeable detriment of
the self
likely rooted in a
learned perception
of entitlement
that your
poor p + m did not
know better than to
teach like
all the other commonplace
fools.

it is also dissonance

that hurts
the most.

frequencies out of
phase, like
careening cars hurdling
each others' parallel
in the finite
space of a
tunnel.

when the clash
of a peak hitting
the trough of its
equal, when
the hero arrives home safe
only to discover all
he loved before
he left had
gone after
he did.

when adversity wins
and reso
lution is
hard to
arr
ive
at.
you know it as
that swell
in your eyes. the
inability to speak
when you're
just
so overwhelmed.

it hurts.




it hurts.

and you know why
but cannot say and
can only
grimace as
you accept and
hope
and feel the
dissonance shake.

tremor.

irresolution.

it hurts and
you are reminded
that
you are a human being with
feelings and means
to
convey.

act and help
the hurt.

act and help the hurt.

realize its intention.

homo-objectus

i want to ask the teller
at chase bank if
he feels human where he stands.

what does he see
through that big thick
bullet proof plexi glass
poorly prescribed lens?

what can he feel there
inside the belly of the beast
disconnected and falsely protected
staring outward at
reality.

you are not a man.

i want to tell him.

not in a battle of the
cock inches,
¿quien es más macho?
kind of way.

you are self degrading.
the next evolution of man:

homo-objectus

disconnecting from the earth and
fellow beings.
growing distant from the shared energy.
freely sacrificing ones' utility
to the one of
undying intention to
hoard.

garble back to me what
you are told
to say in
these situations.

situations are temporary
problems that you call
situations because
you can make them go away.

because we cannot get to you.
you are too big for us.

where is your humanity?

you have been reduced to
a miraculous concoction of
carbon et al atoms and molecules and
treated like a simple, disposable
object.

you help hurt your people.