in a classic hit-and-run,
spilling the guts of ancient &
obtuse conversations all over
the pavement of we don't
give a fuck about your
capital letters & hegel
can choke on a dick.
the birds are angry & we
have better things to do on our
ipads than read metaphysics
going on & on for
thousands of pages on
trees you killed with your
revolutions of industry &
capital & we are not
marxists, lol,
we are
generation why do you
keep bothering us, we can't
hear you with our earbuds on:
hey ya hey ya hey ya
hey why don't you get a job;
in this recession i bet
socrates would be on
unemployment, taking
xanex & anitdepressants,
wasting away on facebook
trying to fight the trolls
off his apology & jon stewart
would roast him on the late night
daily show & he would end up
a blip on a blog buried underneath
celebrity adoptions &
scams to look younger when you
are older & clawing furiously
at the questions you so long buried--
so you think you can dance?
you can't.
#we are royally fucked,
the story would go,
& 3 like it, 2 comment,
the next status something
about happy hour &
let's get fucked up again next weekend.
look at me now look at me now
--i'm a monster.
No comments:
Post a Comment