Zip Caustic Poems

 He Waits Raving, roaring, fuming, igniting, biting, the smashed troll waits in agony. Staring blindly into the whiskey bottle. Tearing at flesh; it smells like ammonia. He eats anyway. Rotund and feeble, the defeated troll smells the farts of yesterday's air. Waiting in agony. Shuddering, quaking, stumbling, falling, the blind sighted troll seizes His cock, but fails to squirt. Terror is a way station on the trip to hell. The troll has hair in his ears, nose, hair on his back, black, thick hair. hair of a gorilla On his back, the Milky Way; a map of benign cancer, like the stars all within light-millimeters of themselves. Alcohol throws him on the couch, sweating, swearing, crying, laughing, waiting in agony. Stringy, greasy hair, red-white greasy beard, deformed nose, and lips too big for the face, long back, short legs, wears a beard to enhance a weak chin, a troll resplendent in his ugliness. And that ridiculous smeel. (smile) What woman could ever love him? In agony, he waits....

 Less Talent Demand the finest from yourself that you could possibly do, and do no less Do not cheat produce diamonds from rough carbon, black as coal, hidden under the earth under you from within comes a long train, boxcars of thoughts and ideas blocking traffic it's gotta get to where it lives out in the open shiny and exquisite even cantankerous as they try to derail the train they put explosives under the bridges they watch you they want to kill your spirit and sometimes they do for awhile but they are limited useless people with big opinions of themselves living proof of the hackneyed coming to life living pseudo-creative lives learning the basics but not contributing much beyond that unoriginal the less talent, the more academic bad ass is scared when he sees the big train with all that cargo car, after car, after car for every passing car is that lowering of the enemy's self worth until the enemy willingly puts himself on the tracks at your mercy

  Baseball Bat Cock let's face it All women need and want a big dick inches and inches a foot heavy, thick, and snake-like in their snatches in their hands between their tits in their mouths between their thighs between their soft, round half-moons comparing the girth to their wrists so they can tell their girlfriends How big it is how it fills them up how they come cum, cum, cum, cum, and scream When women see a big bulge, they stare an obvious stare glare half horror, half wild passion thinking about being filled with hugeness and they tell their girlfriends, and then they all stare And they regret their husbands' average to small dick because they want that big dick breaking-in to their cunts with power fantasizing whispering giggling like little girls swapping big dick stories obsessed with having a battering ram up their pussies to men to "average" men They lie about it until he comes home to find her stuffed with a fucking baseball bat cock He must feel so weak ...

 Torn Apart I am being torn apart I am sitting naked upon a fence of razors On one side is sanity On the other, insanity Sometimes I look to see which side has more blood Sometimes sanity Sometimes not I am being sliced apart Day by day Month by month The pain is excruciating The blades by now are far up my ass-hole Bordering on my large intestine If most of my body goes to insanity Then I will go that direction But by then I'll be dead Unless I can get off this razor I will cut my hands when I try to get off My hands and arms will be sliced And the blood will gush like a waterfall And I will cry out in agony And nobody can help Because they would be sliced in half In the process of helping me I will cut and bleed alone As alone as when we take a shit Or when we are born As alone as when we face our mistakes Or pay a bill Or as alone as the alienated loner in our nightmares And the blades will slice me in half like soft butter As I wait, and wait, and wait For a decision I don'...

 ATTACK OF THE THREE-LETTER GUYS We are the three-letter guys, and we have found our courage in the arts and letters building. We were nerds until our big brains carved out a niche for us in this weary world shhhh...what?.......this has been done before?....shshshsh.....Vonnegut............................ again?.....shshsh....oooohhhh, shit.....so I really have no original joke here? At all? Even this parenthetical gag is no good? Ooooo, noooooo..................................................................................... And we were offered these degrees that gave us POWER and PRESTIGE, even if they come from a nothing state school! At least we worked for 'em. And now WE decide who has talent and who does not. We are the deciderers. And we are brilliant. We are all IN on the joke. The cosmic joke. WE GET IT, this cosmic joke. We actually.....ahh....we......aahh...welll...(grin) we wrote it. This cosmic joke. WE WROTE IT. We are academic nerds, and we want our revenge! We h...

 The Craziest Thing Ever Written The craziest thing ever written occurred on the 30th of December, 2009, at 4:49 PM, in Ventura, California, in a small guest house behind 61 S Coronado. And here it is: monsters in the eye of Glulock does not occupy the attention of my shit in shorts that could golumpuly with the familiar in Denmark. Well, that is at least a snippet of what is to come. The craziest thing ever written, that is. Is it poetic? Is it just pure alliteration? The emphasis on G perhaps? Well, then that starts to sound a bit like a musical analysis. What if we had some more? If flompulus goes over to the mamimbular collection of tansity and tenacity of the occult demons filing for divorce in witchlock while the inglory of my midnight soul cocketh outward in the denim of flakula. Did you lose respect for me? Am I creative, or just some kind of asshole? Well, this can all be explained away as just free association of ideas and nincompoops. But what can not be rationalized are...

 It was just a chair It was just a chair! What the shit! I was drunk at a friend's house And my cunt was with me I was high on coke and booze And I wanted to forget myself But she reminded me that I was high all the time 24 hours a day And she ruined it God Dammit! Can't I get high without any SHIT? So we had to go home NO SHE had to go home I was really pissed now She said: "I think I'm going to leave you." I then tried to open the door of her VW Rabbit to jump out On to the freeway while we were going 60 MPH She pulled over, and I got out "Are you crazy?" she said "You BITCH!" I said Then I got back in, and we took off She kicked me out at my apartment And I went inside and proceeded to take one of my four Dining chairs that cost me one hundred bucks per And smash it into the floor of my apartment until it was In 18 pieces Then I called her answering machine, which the whole family listened to And I called her a lesbian bitch whore prostitute...

 You are seeking employment with our firm? We are SSUC, Shit Shovelers United Corporation. We use Black & Decker's diamond-tipped, teak-stalked, double-barreled  High Performance Shit Shovels to cut through the most insidious mounds of turds the American Rich can produce. They eat Gold, for instance, for breakfast, and shit plutonium at night. You are responsible for shoveling and redistributing all of this Rich American Shit All along the borders of the poor areas. You will be shoveling Shit All Day. Compensation is 4.25/hour. No exceptions. You should be LUCKY to get this much Good American Pay. No Benefits. You will lie in this Shit if you pass out from the noxious fumes, or are too tired to continue your Work. You will be subjected to the most Clinical and Precise Training. THIS IS SHIT SHOVELING. This is The Most Important Job for all Downwardly Descending Americans in 2016. You MUST have at least 10 Years of SHIT SHOVELING EXPERIENCE, using the Tap and Draw Method o...

 Bad Poem When everything is scrambled And you don't know where anything is; Fixing problems that resist getting fixed; Hoisted away by the crane of listlessness; And never seeing the overview. Blind to redemption and forgiveness, The critical eye watches and condemns... It seems hopeless; But you laugh when things are funny; The more hopeless, the funnier. How does one know when a poem is really bad?

 I Know You Greek Gods and heroes, The philosophy of Nietzsche: The transvaluation of all values The rising and setting of the sun while Zarathustra and I watch Our blazing arms intertwined poking at the ripples in the fabric of reality The truths that still linger, undiscovered about everything and nothing The unspeakable the unsung the idle the defrosted youth barely legal, tender, returning for more despair and triumph on this glazed island I know you. I've seen you before. hanging around, knowing a little bit of the matter; suggesting nuggets of wisdom before your hibernation; and your subtle little death playing like a soft mallet against my heart I know you

 Fleeting Why do I get my best ideas when I take a shit? Or, wake up sweating from my drunk dreams? All of a sudden, when the pressure is off I see the world through my own truth. I then rush to write it down. But it's All gone DRY... This used to happen to Chopin He would go for walks with George And have beautiful shit run through his mind Fleeting into oblivion as he raced to the Piano So he could write it down When he couldn't remember, he'd break pencils, Run around swearing... It's the temporality of that magic Here, then gone That stays in the hearts and minds of men All we try to do is Correct the misdeeds of a cruel, inhospitable world So that we can live free of putting our dicks and pussies in vice grips

 [I also wrote this sad poem at 11.] The Gray Line (1978) The gray line of the beach lost its silence. People, beautiful people, With laughing joy have replaced silence. And the beautiful seagull with a tear in its eye, the loud vehicle with the engineer at the wheel, and the artichoke shaped like a clover, with an incredible capacity inside for love and equal rights has taken over the seashore. Such success and friendship this beach had with silence. Now silence stalks in darkness as the beach lies there as helpless as a broken winged bird on a window pane. This gray-lined beach is dirty now. It could be replaced by another of its kind. But there never will be another of their beach's kind Never. Let it shine in dignity. This beach will remain as helpless as a man in a center of a desert with no food or water, and will remain thinking of itself, with silence at his side Emotional trust depends on him to speak, Or silence will kill him and his gray life.

 The Ladies Room I was in a bookstore in Manhattan One day And I had to take a horrible shit The clerk told me that the men's room was out of order So I used the women's room There was this fifty-year-old, sweaty, Nervous white guy hangin' around in the Restroom area I think he was homosexual When I got into the stall I saw all this female graffiti One read: "I wanna suck some guy's 10" cock" Another read: "I'm so glad I met my boyfriend. I love him sooo much." Another read: "Don't any of you bitches have anything Important to say?" My personal favorite read: "...JACK ASS" I began to doubt that there were any Differences between men and women, since Both love to talk about the male anatomy I wiped my ass, and since I weigh 260 lbs., I began to sweat something terrible. When I came out of the stall A woman was horribly shocked By my presence. She said: "This is the "Ladies Room" you know!!!" I said:...

 AA and it's neo-Platonistic modality: One must die to the self and become, in spirit, greater than the sum of men. Well, if that just doesn't reek of Buddhism!!! East Indian thought finally came to the West in the guise of Alcoholics Anonymous! Irony of all ironies.

 The Subway I stepped on this subway coming from Manhattan I just ate a huge corned beef sandwich from Katz's Deli. Mustard and Russian dressing all over my face and beard; I was very drunk and felt good I had this push-button umbrella That extended when pressed - Just like a big dick sliding out... I feigned an attack on the security guard. The umbrella extended, and he jumped back. He laughed that embarrassing laugh some of us do when something strange occurs. On the subway I sat opposite my friend, Who is, socially, very shy and well behaved - Even when drunk. Especially when drunk. There was this Indian guy sitting adjacent to me I kept staring at him. My alcohol breath was invading his nostrils and mouth and My sandwich face was hurting his eye - in case he looked at me... His eyes were squarely locked on the ceiling of the subway car. I continued to stare at him. I was determined to provoke a response Next, I started to sing an Indian song to him. An old work buddy from my ga...

 Mew I found a stray cat outside a liquor store one day I thought he was real cute he had big balls he was running around in this parking lot... what, nobody loves him? he was going to run across Gaffey street until I grabbed him "l'm gonna love you," I said to him he rode with me in the car, climbing all over my face I carried him up my steps into my house where Meash was waiting for me Meash didn't talk to me for two days Meash weighs 14 pounds, and he's not fat he's ALL cat a tough mother fucker he too was also a stray unwanted discarded used. By the way, if you were the previous owners of these two, I'd kick your fuckin ass up and down the Grand Canyon today, Meash and the new little guy are exploring each other sometimes they chase each other other times, Meash asserts his dominance I live with two mother fuckers of the galaxy I admire them I respect them I love them

 A Self Interview--An "Autoview" Zip interviews Zip Zip: Why are your posts generally so angry? Zip: Because I am angry. Zip: What are you angry about? Zip: I don't know. Zip: Then why don't you calm the fuck down? Zip: Because I'm mother-fucking angry. Zip: Do you think you're funny? Zip: Yes. Zip: Well, you're not, bud. You are a whiny little son of a bitch and you have no class. Zip: Well, I feel angry about the world and how totally fucking fucked up it is. Zip: What the hell does that mean? That could mean anything and it's a cliche. Zip: No, it's not a cliche. It's a fact. The world is totally fucked up. People are poor and unemployed, uninsured, uneducated, uninvolved, living in denial, earning minimum wage, voting for people who keep raping them over and over again... Zip: Oh, that's such a lie...The world is beautiful as it is! Just look out the window and see the sunshine! Zip: What? Are you some kind of faggot? Zip: Wait a minute...

 Typical Americans, including academics, regarding art, literature, and music: "I need to see a face or something..." "I need to hear a melody...or something." "I need a steady beat, or something..." "I need something happy...or something.." "I don't like European art coz it's too morbid..." "I need to read something uplifting..." "I don't get it..." "There is too much going on...can't you thin it out?" "Less is more!" (said with authority) "I don't get it.." (whispered) "There's too much pain in it, can't you make it lighter?" "Eww, it looks like outsider art." "Those downtown composers don't know what they're doing..." "Polytempic? Why? It's not logical..." "Where is the logic?" "What key is it in?" "Where's one?" "What is eggsistenshiulizm?" "Make it accessi...

Always Sleeping Did I ever tell you, About That woman, Addicted to downers, Always sleeping... We all had to tiptoe around the house. She made wax paintings and wax candles Using illustrious purple and shiny red. She sang folk songs with her abnormally high, Girlish voice- The type of voice that never grew up One day, she left her husband for a boy Seventeen years her junior The favorite son He felt pressured into taking on an adult's role Which was beyond him He foundered and engendered hatred from everyone That woman, of course, came down with cancer, But she staved it off for eleven years Just before her death, She had fifty thousand dollars worth of Plastic surgery Done on her face To her face I suppose she thought she'd live forever I often think about her death As I reflect on my own "little deaths" From which I recover with Tremendous hangovers, And I wonder if Our fingers have ever touched In that Nether World- A world I can't remember

 The Craziest Thing Ever Written The craziest thing ever written occurred on the 30th of December, 2009, at 4:49 PM, in Ventura, California, in a small guest house behind 61 S Coronado. And here it is: monsters in the eye of Glulock do not occupy the attention of my shit in shorts that could golumpuly with the familiar in Denmark. Well, that is at least a snippet of what is to come. The craziest thing ever written, that is. Is it poetic? Is it just pure alliteration? The emphasis on G perhaps? Well, then that starts to sound a bit like a musical analysis. What if we had some more? If flompulus goes over to the mamimbular collection of tansity and tenacity of the occult demons filing for divorce in witchlock while the inglory of my midnight soul cocketh outward in the denim of flakula. Did you lose respect for me? Am I creative, or just some kind of asshole? Well, this can all be explained away as just free association of ideas and nincompoops. But what can not be rationalized are t...

 Skid Row Alex poured whiskey at Four-thirty in the afternoon When the news reported UFOs over Trinidad, and the stock market sank to a brand new low And brokers are going broke While white girls are getting Plowed by big black dicks And black girls are getting plowed by big white dicks, and people are killed in wars in Kosovo, and Ethiopians starve While Beverly Hills wives pay for Tiger skin coats, Peeled off the poor creatures While they're still living By Asian poachers are resistant to Remorse and zero compunction over Their behavior, and Alex pours more whiskey, getting drunker, and slipping into Coma land while girls are getting raped by their fathers, and young boys are Raped by priests in the confessionals, And bums are walking skid row Where Alex was brought by the police, and thrown into the Rescue Mission in Beautiful downtown Los Angeles on A Sunday morning at three AM, as people sleep in Paris, after going to a jazz club, toured by American Musicians, high on heroin, ...

 Shit is the Loveliest Color in My Life Shit is the loveliest color in my life, and frankly, if it were not for The smell, I would carry it around on my shoulder all day long. Cockroaches are the reason why mankind may not prevail: their exceptional brilliance. Yesterday I awoke, and there was a giant cockroach on my dick. I screamed out with a loud orgasm, for it appears that I had been humping this poor cockroach all night long. I tried to get out of bed and skidded on my ass because of all the jizz on the floor. Jizz makes a glopping sound when it hits the ground. My head pounded the floor in what sounded like a flam-tap punctuated by a buzz roll. The crunch I thought I heard, needless to say, was my little cockroach, now pressed firmly against my head, with cum and dust. I proceeded to get up again and placed my hands under my ass to grip myself lustfully before slipping in that dreadful semen again. The clock struck four, and my erection was waning. To rise again, I would have...

 Necrophiliacs Eat Worms Out of Mouths of the Dead Necrophiliacs Eat Worms Out of Mouths of the Dead Scouring the bones and sinews of long-held day And wielded by efforts wrought like a shedding snake Loathsomely seeking the glint of the giant's head They pile the body on top the mound that death decay Chomping the moar, not fed but fled, away they soar Nothing but sand and stone and mud and flowers In vain, a desperate enterprise not likely met today Laurels flat and stamped by rest's fallow flight at night Revelation negated, and shoulders slumped in due fright That might anon come by way of stealing food for naught Look! Within that fire, a pilot light that governs right Guilelessly holds the gaze of mighty men away from blight That cramps the innards of the ivy-crawled walls a'bought

 I proud for failure. like the bird who refuses migration or murmuration, like the fish out of school, as a separated lone wildebeest, as a slow cat who can't eat. Just like  a lone renegade academic fumbling and bumbling on a solitary walk, trudging, willfully  like Werther, walking into his fantasy, like Rousseau's reveries around Paris, Solitary, like Beethoven's composing in his mind while walking, arboreally,  each foot kissing the Earth Like Thay, like Beckett, falling down and failing and falling, failing, flailing, tripping down down down like Zarathustra down-going like Christ on the cross like St Peter upside-down, failing,  to be crucified incorrectly, like any splintered, fractured group or individual, walking tripping falling forward falling face-first, a flatly fumbling fool... I fall and fail and trip and splinter off proudly ready to be eaten by circumstance and misfortune not following not in tow veering the wrong way going wrong wrongly wrongin...

 How meaningless and insignificant I am how unable to reach another human being  and how miserable and isolated I am  while sitting in the midst of billions, seeing infinitessimals and numbers of happy bapty lapty fidgety clay crowds laughing and guffawing all the day No one sees nor hears my cry in any sort of way Yet, cats see me, and i see them We comfort eachother now and then playing and cuddling like a  mother hen My fat is a pillow for their circular head Yet people are another matter which tends to make me all the sadder in my unfortunate dismay that humans are anesthetized  and can not feel a sunshine ray that feebly bounces off their self-absorption and leads society to unlit decay  while ice catapults projectiles into the air that fall into flesh to cause despair  to any hope of congeniality and gay happy people in the light of day darkened by the blood moon eclipse occluding the divine light of love flying as haplessly as a dove after a rai...

word bomb syllable explosions, consonances with grenade sibilance, thrashing about; ear-grating caterwauling noises shrilling, Nay, not Schiller, inelegant, ungraceful, with no freedom, no classical references, and a mouthy apparatus, locked in fork-tongued, Corn-eared devilray speak with Satanic pitchfork and words of prey, And of dementia and ignorance, chomping at the bit; lost in decay. frayed. inaccurate, lost, and unrefined. The catalyst of evil  causing ruptures of trust and harmony, While expressing the anal gland into diapers. A buffoon grifting apocryphal avatar for the plutocratic mob, hiding behind a rotund shadow, casting horror and gloom on the Earth, let alone every country on her slender continents, quivering, methinks of the perhapsing spray of radioactive uranium existing in potentia, waiting for that possibility to collapse into our reality-- that cannot be realized As we are already dead in Minneapolis.

trump want bomb greenland  trump threat greenland denmark trump get focus away from epstein trump do favor for putin davos no even talk about ukraine with trump no even talk about venezuela attack no even talk about stealing venezuelan oil trump put all europe on defensive with fake ploy trump given orders by heritage foundation, oligarchs, and putin trump follow orders best he can even with dementia they remove trump soon because he no functional they use trump as long as can before switch him out w eyeliner vance american stoopid love trump american stoopid go fight for trump minnesota ice now can enter people homes without warrent gestapo is here ice is nazi gestapo ameriKKKa is completely racist and there are no more civil rights for anyone, including poor white trash the poor white trash voted for this rene good killed by ice no repercussions for killer maga kill with impunity civil war is coming civil war is here put pitchfork up trump supporter ass put trump supporter in bur...

 smoldering simmering rage  locked and sealed in  stewing like pot roast but not succulent and delicious just rage rage rage  in an isolated cage, stewing and simmering Every day with no expression heard by others. just isolation and alienation. In older age, my simmering rage is ineffectual and caged, except I can write it on this page that no one ever sees, except me I am alone in a world of 8.3 billion non-sage Ordinaires, we are all stewing in our anger like juicy pot roast dinners no one eats. like ticking time bomb dinners seething with rage that only gets put on a page in our old age, and we are not sage, and we have no gauge for our condition just staid placid alone rage on a page in our old age.  We will not explode but implode within and collapse like the 9/11 twin towers free-falling from implosion like a planned demolition, like staid afraid made anger misplaced unexpressed stewing over decades of quiet rage unexploded, just roasting like uneaten foo...

 Trump has raped little girls, but he still gets to be POTUS?  (That's it. There is nothing more to say in this poem. There is no other sentiment, statement, or addition that needs to be made. The American people condone, accept, and abide by our child molesting dictator of a POTUS. The American people are okay with a slimy, greasy, orange, fat 80-year-old man putting his tiny old stinky penis inside America's daughters. Granddaughters. Nieces. These girls are grown women, now, being ignored and lambasted by Fox News, and are called liars and charlatans. Trump put his tiny little orange dick in these girls without their consent at less than 18 years of age, while Trump was well into his forties. Where is your rage? Where is your outrage? Where is your wrath? Where is your sense of justice? Where is your fatherly protectiveness? Where is your motherly protection? Where is your grandfatherly protectiveness? You right-wing MAGA, accept this? Would you leave your granddaughters wi...

 she gave him her nobel peace prize. she gave hitler jr her nobel peace prize. i no hav brayne aneemoar.  i no kan hav think. i am dummbed into oblivionion.  i kan has no not anee moar think. she tink love konqcurr alls butt she gav her noble prize to hitler baby orange fat stuupid.  orange fat baby hitler no hav kon science. no imp athey no komp asss shun. dis iss waystid jesture. dis iss mee ning liss.  eye am ashaymed 2 b aluyve. hyooman stoopid.  wee hav kum from cayve mann to Einstein back to cayveman aggen.  she no undertann datt Trump try steel oil? try hyde epstein phile? invayd venezuela with boats on grund?  she no cee trump lyke HITTLER????? she no kan dat c?  trump gib mee dimensha. i has dimensha

You.  You want something easy. You don't wanna work.  Thinking is hard for you. Abstraction is well beyond you. You need to be force-fed. Open your mouth. I am feeding you.  You are in an art museum, and you don't understand what you see. It's a Jackson Pollock. All you see are squigglies. You think your kid can do it better.  You. You're in Disney Hall, and you hear a tone row by Schoenberg but you think your kid can do it better. You are trying to read Finnegan's Wake but you can't get past the first sentence and you know goddamned well your kid can't do this better but you don't have any other frame of reference for an insult this grand.  It doesn't even matter what political spectrum you are. You may even be a liberal. But. You just have this ultra-conservative non-processualizing cerebrum that refuses to  insight  your inner eyes, ears, nose into inside and within the cloud of beingness where someone lives and creates. You want it to be logical....

Everybody hates me,, y, es it's true  Everybody hates me, even you  Everybodyy hates me just like glue  people want to kick my ass until it's black and blue  Everybody hates me, yes it's true Everybodyy hates me, even you  Everybody hates me, ye,s it's truePeople le want me to die from the flu  Everybody wants me to get screwed  When I look at my poems' statistics,s none are viewed  People want me to die from lack of food  People always tell me I'm in a bad mood  They flee from me* because they say I'm rude  Everybody hates me, it's true Everybody y hates me, even you People e want me dead, yes it's true  People want me dead, even you  Everybodyneedsd to change presidents with a coup  This country of mine has become a zoo  It's like everybody's born with a God damn tattoo  toothless and brainless and smoking meth like a mother f****** piece of s*** garbage c*** white trash w**** prostitute s*** for brains ja...

Poems Better Make Sense :  taken out of the frame of reference The bad poet McGonagall   the even worse poet Julia Moore Couldn't write fuckall and the worst of them all, Peter Thoegersen , a stupid idiot composer (of all things), incoherent, sloppy self-hatred, happy-go-lucky NOT whimsy mimsy caterwauling insipid think knot From what template do we judge? for if we do not like what we all read, (iambic pentameter) Then we shall judge with merciless creed, everything the poet tries to convey and we abhor in OUR inimical way whatever the fuck they are trying to say. Diamond in the head card. slithery snake tolls for lethargy and the green moon shines in my belly button South of the Equator, where Sand dunes on rye are Swallowing Godzilla

all i wanna do is kick your fuckin' ass  

 No, they did not. They did not start doing this. Then how did it start? First of all: Eurocentrism Europeans think they can do whatever the fuck they want. That's the problem. Been doing it for centuries. Since the Crusades . Did it again. During WWI, the Middle East was carved up into easy, convenient borders. The borders were geopolitically expedient for Europe and America. Not for them. We started tribal wars and squabbles.  Why? Oil. Daimler-Benz had just invented the gasoline engine . Where was the fuel? The Middle East . During WWI, we went in and began carving our sand oil fuel turkey. Did we care about them? no. Do we care about them today? no.  This is why they bomb our cities. Drink this in. This is the big picture. This is the overall view Minus one thing: Fucking Jesus. Fucking Jesus needs to be thrown in here. Fucking Jesus is the reason, besides our own feelings of European superiority (racism) We feel we had the divine right by having the correct god: fuc...

 i can't help i can't help i can't help there's nothing I can do to help nothing I can say do I can't help can't help can't help can't un-help I can't make it better I cant make it worse I can't do anything to help I cant do anything I cant do anything I can't undo anything I cant do undo anything I am useless and ineffectual and there's nothing i can do i can't do anything do anything do anything to help i am voiceless voxless no vox i am not the deus ex machina I am pasted into the corner and made impotent and powerless I watch I watch I watch I am a cuck watching Trump and the oligarchs fuck my life my society my planet my country i watch watch watch like a cucking cuck a fuckless watcher watching the fucking of my life my country my sanity my everything my planet as the huge mega tech oil cocks of money fuck my planet with big huge cumless dicks fucking and sucking all her resources out and wasting them fucking Greenland for Lith...

 I feel the same way I did when Orange Fat Baby Hitler Was elected again in 2024. It's now a year later, and OFBH is bombing our neighbors in the western hemisphere As he has switched tactics to falsely Imply a Monroe-esque Doctrine , Except by force of military and ex post facto as if to give a quasi rational reason for his power-grabbing for his billionaire friends OFBH is doing this to: 1. Deflect Epstein files 2. get his billionaire buddies their oil 3. Try to start a war that may derail or even cancel the midterm elections.  All these idiotic machinations have made me so sad and tired. Depressed and Listless. Apathetic. I sleep the sleep of reason, Inviting monsters into my dreams I'm screaming into sand while running underwater in ten feet of snow thoroughly disabled powerless voiceless thwarted I, the American Citizen nothing calling my congressman and senators But all I get is their interns or voice machines ineffectual, like trying to lift  The Empire State Buil...

YOU GODDAMNED FUCKIN AMERICANS DID IT AGAIN YOU ALL VOTED FOR THIS YOU VOTED FOR A FELON  8-TIME DRAFT DODGER TO START WARS AND  SPEND AMERICAN AND FOREIGN LIVES LIKE THEY GROW ON TREES. THIS IS WHAT THE AMERICAN OLIGARCHS WANTED. HERE IT IS. FIRST, KILL THE AMERICAN POOR AND DISABLED. THEN THROW OUT ALL BROWN SKINNED IMMIGRANTS. THEN, ATTACK A WEAKER COUNTRY FOR ITS NATURAL  RESOURCES. HOW BLOODY AMERICAN IS THIS? THIS IS MORE OF THE SAME. THIS IS W AND DICK CHENEY ENRON AND HALIBURTON ALL OVER AGAIN.  THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU ALL THOUGHT YOUR DEAR ORANGE FAT HERO WOULDN'T DO. HE DID IT. YOU ARE COMPLICIT. YOU VOTED FOR THIS. DEAD VENEZUELANS ARE ON YOUR HEAD, TRUMP SUPPORTERS. YOU KILLED INNOCENT PEOPLE. YOU KILLED FELLOW AMERICANS. YOU KILLED THE POOR. YOU KILLED THE DISABLED. YOU ARE KILLING YOURSELVES. TRUMP IS NOW PUTIN JR. TRUMP JUST GAVE DICTATORS AROUND THE WORLD  A PERMISSION SLIP TO INVADE AND CONQUER. THIS IS NIHILISTIC OUTRIGHT DENIAL OF HUMAN RIGHT...