A surreal existence
of so many brief connections
with the fast food
nation
on four petrol pounding wheels
resembling the horsemen
bringing about the end
by hypocrisy
cant depend on, yet continue to,
burn the cash flow that flies
through the pipeline,
was that life some pipe dream
on how to live free and happy?
flashing a toothy gap filled grin
to the youngsters
hidden behind the protective glass?
or something more real
the story of human existance
the subjecting of the real
members of humanity
the real people
to their hell.
their blind ambitions
now squashed by parole officers
and gunfire
a hail of bullets to take them down
and a wave of hand cuffs and colored lights
to clean up the rest
a natural occurence, this sick control
can it be explained
or is it just phenomena?
something to be watched in fear
now hitting the floor
at the sound of the sirens
their beautiful voices
filling my head with dilusions
of gradeur i cannot fill
and neither can they
even the destruction
of the society that allows them the power
they hold the rilfed slug
that says bow
and they hold the star of david
on their chest
so many times replicated
for the good of the people
i tremble at my mention
my number is far too near
and my time is fast approaching
it seems
and they still seem to seek
the diminishing of the last light
that i grasp
But i can tear it from their leech grasp
and finally
in my last moments enjoy it
my last moments of
85-90 years
i will be tired and finally rest grasping that last light
they held so briefly
yet too long
and i will revel in its beauty
til the day i die.