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patrick jones
Pain polluted days dripping from our mouths
rivers of solitude mountains of money
images of perfection porcelain laid lips
speaking gospels of consumerism
boiling in the Novocaine reality
tongues removed by sorrow
millions of smiles beckoning understanding feigning meaning
of another another
so mighty so hegemonic so hating so desecrating so there so
nowhere so hurting
we fall between indifference rejection and the whole fucking wall
we fall
the wall that drowns children before they can think
that sprays flowers with pound signs
that ignores truth in persuit of lies
that paints perfection into living rooms
that holds guns to poets' souls
that pays £2 an hour to encourage a free market
that flys flags; sweet icons of alienation good only to be set
alight
that swallows workers into corporate gashes
that stitches solitude into crematoriums
that elevates greed and money makers
that loves banks
that builds tanks
that vomits credit cards
that lashes people to poverty
turns flesh to wax
that is everywhere
that is nowhere
that bites our necks
that is the air
that I know exists
that I know slits wrists
that I know rapes wombs
that I know is here
that I know is everywhere
that I can see
that I cant see.
Pain polluted days sucking crucifix money
pledging happiness upon the altar of indifference
souls stabbed senseless by the cult of the nameless
that culls everything
that doesn't make money
pray correctly
produce
adhere
reason
consume.
What screams this silence
what atrophy throws bricks nowhere
what distance this voice
what visions blur reality
what aloneness signs catatonia
what winds of concrete winds through The City
what blood smears lips intransient
what snaps spines like fingers
causes amnesia from TV
what wires of conformity
what shores of routine
what perfect washed faces bathed in acid
what asphalt ataxia clasping religion
what unbreakable silence
what wet strangled sun;
stasis in obedience
mouth wash narcotic
what streets of white
what confusion armalite-
what anxiety stabs arteries from darkness
what suits stretch skin to rebellion
yet rebellion is only a page and existence continues enraged
clothes scag on barbed wire laws
thoughts as sentence
life as resistance
but doubt is the needle
frustration the crime
blistered cancer breath the voice
that stutters sublime
that stutters;