Paranoia by Dan LinnParanoia is the new sex.
People jump at shadows of former selves and their splintered lives, secretly wishing for a chance to kill without guilt, for loving themselves, they have so much ammo to give. It is fascinating to think how beautiful their lives could be if it was someone else's consequences.
One day Blackwater ads on barred billboards will promise an uncompromised perimeter in exchange for the surrendering of simple decency, for this is a dangerous world and everybody had better be just as greedy and more sociopathic then the next guy or there will not be enough to have more than we ever needed.
Come sit on Santa's lap as he pours lies in you ears and watches your credulity bubble foamy white out of your pursey pinks. Warm pain floods and your brain auto-chokes your throat. Smudge pots purify dangerously humorous commercials about evil intentions everywhere.
Circle your canned goods in wagons of Xenophobic hysterical warnings. They are mindless, fanatical, godless, hedonistic, savages. Apocalypse over-runs all the old playgrounds and neighborhoods. Rush past the carnival gauntlet, all exotic smells and pungent, disgusting, humanity.
Holding privacy like sand castles in the surf, some will frantically make water boxes with their hands and scream every time someone knows their name. "Give it back, bitch! You have mis-pronounced it! You don't know me!"
How could someone be so stupid, so naive, so vulnerable, so open, so unsafe, so trusting, so loving, so truthful, so unguarded, so its-just-a-matter-of-time-before-they-come-for-you-and-I-won't-give-a-fuck-because-I-warned-you
and I am so turned on right now! 08/27/2011 Author's Note: Fear sells better than sex.
Posted on 02/23/2012 Copyright © 2025 Dan Linn
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Joe Cramer on 02/23/12 at 01:03 PM ... brilliant..... |
Posted by LK Barrett on 02/23/12 at 09:30 PM ...what a rich mess of wordplay and savagely accurate observation this is. Mesmerizing flow with a genius payoff, and oh, "enough to have more than we ever needed" indeed. Loved it, loved it, and then loved it some more. TY for the write, sir... |
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/26/12 at 04:33 PM There are many brilliant lines here. The whole Santa scene and especially the canned goods being circled. I have to laugh at the canned goods or I will cry at the mess we are in. Is paranoia the new sex - maybe, but I do know people seem to get a tingle they like from being afraid - some weird switch in the brain. Maybe it helps them feel alive in a numbing world of information overload. Well done, Dan. |
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 02/26/12 at 10:18 PM I really enjoyed this for its construction and images, while at the same time, disturbed, at how close it hits to home. It's a mad sad world we live in, when one looks at it this way, and you've hit the nail right on the head. One minor quibble; the third full stanza (Come sit on Santa's) doesn't work for me. I found it too abstract, as compared to the more concrete other stanas. Maybe a bit of re-writing, or drop it all together, as the poem works fine without it in IMHO. All in all, a uniquely brilliant poem for our times. Funny, as I read this, it kept reminding me of my daily bus ride to and from work. I'm one of the few that doesn't have a hand held device or cell phone; everyone else wrapped up in their own little push button worlds. |
Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 02/26/12 at 10:19 PM time to put on that sociopath suit and get to work. |
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