Jay Alejo Writes

the more we steal the more is revealed

revel in several levels of moldy meal

the granary is razed to ashes still warm

the army stands over villagers still forms

rape reave and pillage is the marching orders

torch the foreigners nations over and over

pushing back and forth over moving borders

ruled by a tiny little nation of roving hoarders

recorded in abortive morse code horror stories

it all reduces to a morbid shallow allegory

no free will nor determinism guides the path

cosmic math resolution constrained by Gods wrath

–

and the summary seems punitive by contrast

the ruling class cant even fall back on its own ass

taken to task over and over until at last

we all feel the thermonuclear atomic blast

sipping the last drops from the flask of water

hydrating in preparation of bloodletting slaughter

formidable foes transpose glowing stones proudly

my own ghost repeats itself forever loudly

standing with chest out and fist in the air

accomplishing little as i grow fat with thinning hair

turn skeletal and wither away rapidly

cancer eats my flesh away and i stare vacantly

–

for more boons i pour salt on my own wounds

farming karma and self harm i warm my own tomb

warning befuddled in the huddled witches new moon

the swarming lunacy in sickening tune soon resumes

and she swoons

now i can tie my own shoes

just clue me in to the shredding shrapnel barrage

when you leave make sure to shut the garage

mirage floating away aptly and sarcastically

all the worlds a symbolic referent actually

so we sway solemnly in the scarring wind

destined to win in the world in which we dont begin

–

doomed to fail and lose i still remain to fight

and turn tail and succumb to dream each night

caked in with crackling mud so i cant breathe

and the cousin of sleep is the only relief

but either way i either remain calm and controlled

or i tick away like a bomb in the core of my soul

so as shape and color flit along evilly

i hope the demons arent perceiving me equally

i can barely sense or feel them even in my head

if theyre out there maybe were better off dead

truth is thats what they want us to think

so i plot darkly and take another drink