Post by AquarianM on May 2, 2013 1:48:04 GMT -5
Rescue Me From The Zompocalypse...
In the exhausted dust of our corporate wasteland I try to fight sleep,
From the excreted directives of bean-counters who believe that reality can be mandated with a spreadsheet,
There issues forth a sort of poison that steals the soul of the land,
Leaving a weary melancholy in everything we face in daily life.
It seeps into the art of the land like a curse,
What's left of art is like a grim shadow of itself,
A mirror to the heart of a people oppressed in stealth,
The false glitter of material ease puts a gloss over the disease,
Happy white false teeth gleam with fake lies of superiority,
In the places where factual reality used to lie with compassion and breed hope.
Have you noticed how every science fiction movie is a form of apocalypse now,
And even the hopeful ones present "apocalypse lite?"
It surprises me not in the least that all of us zombies are embracing the false worship of zombies,
As we pray for an apocalypse to remove the unbearable status-quo where the bean-counts only go up if a war is on,
And we all try to be in five places at once while the very Earth screams at the exhaustion of air, water, and soil,
While we all dance the puppet dance of the largest experiment in sleep and compassion deprivation in human history.
It's a wonder I can even find a few moments to put the observation of this utter grayness to pen.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 05/02/2013
*The first thing I've (barely) had the energy or time to write in a couple of months. I wish I lived in a Calgon commercial.
In the exhausted dust of our corporate wasteland I try to fight sleep,
From the excreted directives of bean-counters who believe that reality can be mandated with a spreadsheet,
There issues forth a sort of poison that steals the soul of the land,
Leaving a weary melancholy in everything we face in daily life.
It seeps into the art of the land like a curse,
What's left of art is like a grim shadow of itself,
A mirror to the heart of a people oppressed in stealth,
The false glitter of material ease puts a gloss over the disease,
Happy white false teeth gleam with fake lies of superiority,
In the places where factual reality used to lie with compassion and breed hope.
Have you noticed how every science fiction movie is a form of apocalypse now,
And even the hopeful ones present "apocalypse lite?"
It surprises me not in the least that all of us zombies are embracing the false worship of zombies,
As we pray for an apocalypse to remove the unbearable status-quo where the bean-counts only go up if a war is on,
And we all try to be in five places at once while the very Earth screams at the exhaustion of air, water, and soil,
While we all dance the puppet dance of the largest experiment in sleep and compassion deprivation in human history.
It's a wonder I can even find a few moments to put the observation of this utter grayness to pen.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 05/02/2013
*The first thing I've (barely) had the energy or time to write in a couple of months. I wish I lived in a Calgon commercial.