Take comfort, believer, it's part of The Plan
to reap justice, so run while you carry the can;
you don't need to know why, just eat Jack and Diane
'till the black and white angel delivers The Man.

This shit, when it happens, defines random stuff,
ingenuity playing a double-edged bluff.
The ingenuous fold when the going gets tough
while the students of prescience can't get enough.

So -- chaotic? Cathartic? A poet's wet dream?
Or the bubbleburst banking a media stream?
Though I hate to be kept in the dark, if I scream
kill the lights, call an exorcist, cast out this theme.

08/12/2009

Posted on 08/12/2009
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