“I feel like I’m suffocating in here.”
That’s because you’ve got a handkerchief stuck in you mouth…


Don’t eat too much
you might start to look healthy.
People could be watching
you'd better stay inside today,
the weather’s warm
and Temptation begs you to play.
Take all the vitamins you can,
if you can get your hand on
something a little stronger
prescription drugs are the way to walk
because when you undergo
the eleventh (successfully) failed suicide
you won’t be charged with illegal possession
– and damn the country’s
lack of official repression in regards to local recession.

Don’t eat meat, fruit, or vegies,
they'll have too much protein, too much iron,
and insufferable amounts of untabletised energy.
If you’ve any conscious at all
you'll never touch honey or milk
because the bees that made the honey
and cows that gave the milk
are merely victims of corporate greed globalisation
– they’ve more rights then sweat shop workers
from where you’ve bought your clothes
for the past twenty-something years.

Repress any enjoyment you feel
from listening, viewing, or sensing
popular culture - it’s popular,
and you’ve already made the life-explaining decision
of being alternative, no, better still,
the decision to become as unacceptable as possible,
to shock the audience of national patriarchs
and teenage boppers to the sound
of sadistic and possible (hopefully) masochistic features.

Your everyday life is a working progress
towards an act, you’re writing a play
for the contemplation of life from the opinion
of a completely self-made, hand-crafted,
demon-possessed “individual”, you’ve got me hooked.
This is the new reality television show,
it's the innovative, original, sculptured obsession,
a new generation rebelling conservative retention.

The latest model of unique
is redrafting the old kitchen sink,
in other words becoming a separate uniform
is through the demands of reform
controlling the urges to conform to a society norm.
Long ago in your mouldable stages of adolescence
you believed that misinterpretation
was the key in the curse of governmental legislation,
but now you see that in any deliberation
there is no room in the future for a liberation
of humanity, of desperate deeds destined
to die in infantile exile.

And to think she thought the stench
of roadkill would warn….
how we are told,
how we are educated.




Lotophagi