Tag Archives: war

Tools of the trade

Like the fat fuck doctor handing over vicodin
to the boy in pain who doesn’t yet know
he should say ‘go kill yourself’
instead of ‘okay’

Like dufflebags full of crystal methamphetamine
that used to be made in America
until it got outsourced
just like everything else

Like vacuum-packed on diplomatic flights
to South Korea—China—the Philippines
by the psychopathic soldiers & agents
without an ounce of morale left

Like making billions pushing synthetic opiates
while thousands of misled victims are dying
turning to heroin laced with fent
chasing their own tails until the end

Like turning a blind eye to the kilograms
of legal fentanyl analogs
exported from China—
North Korea can only dream of such success—

Like Duterte’s son getting caught
red handed moving millions in shabu
Triad tats on his back
—no one does a thing

Like shooting up after eating McDonalds
driving your Chevy Geo out of the parking lot
onto the road chucking your used needle
into the gutter from an open window

Like not even knowing there’s a lethal threshold
that you are going to want to pass
to get the same degree of feeling
you had the first time—it’s already gone—

Like taking your usual maintenance dose
that you thought was from the same source
nodding off on the toilet
never waking up again

Like writing a book about the Clinton’s
cocaine Arkanicide rise to political power
getting shot in the head
—suicided on the top of a hillside

Like the opium wars all over again
forever without an end in sight
whole entire neighborhoods set up
to be harvested for prisoners

Like feeding them risperidone for profit
in solitary confinement
guilty of nothing
but a lifestyle

Like how my generation statistically
is the drunkest one ever to walk
the face of the earth
—I wonder why that is

Like how before it was legal
for the CIA to brainwash the public before 2011
there were shows like Friends
all the chicks wanted to watch

Like no matter how much effort
you put into unlearning & training
your mind—there it is again every time
you talk to almost anyone

Like not giving a fuck
if you don’t like my poem
—go shove your head back into the sand
pretend everything is perfectly fine—

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A reaction to a smile

I think it’s literally
laughable you want us all
to be afraid of some pudgy ass
little bitch in North Korea
way to take the focus off you
shine it right back in your
beadyeyed nonconductive face
shoot a firework off the coast
of the most densely populated
area in all of America how glorious
is our defense how insipid
they are for their near-famine
how about something that isn’t staged
for once are you even capable
of anything but a whirlwind
of death & lies duck & cover
when it comes it’s gonna sting
aren’t you mad & full of hate
I wouldn’t blame you at this point
if you knew exactly where to put it







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Back home

Now they’re finally saying
the war in Afghanistan
which they never planned
on ever winning
is too expensive
for us

Babies grew up
into hand me down drivers
in the time they’ve spent
racketing away at the trap

It’s no wonder heroin
is cheaper than it’s ever been
sometimes I wonder
why I’m not doing any
easier to get than a ‘script
a gateway sanctioned
by a board meeting

Yeah I mean I know the answer
I know the other answer too
I chainsmoke flowers
while I write

Let me elucidate
the fallacy
of opalescent economics
the psychopathic travesty
of profits over people

They say it’s cheaper just to use
the private contractors
who are over there right now
guarding the poppy fields
vantage pointing horizons
that covertly expanded
while our soldiers
tried to instill a pseudodemocracy
no one gives a fuck about
& died a freakish death
which they tried to cover up
a long time ago
back home

Back home where they are more likely
to kill themselves
than die by anything else

Back home the alien planet
the contractors relinquished
to kill on command until retirement

Back home in duffel bags unchecked
after nine months a new batch
the temptation must be profound

Back home flooded with fentanyl
from China & other even stronger
opiates overdosing just by the touch

Back home where states are suing
big pharma for knowingly setting
everyone up to turn cold & blue
 

Back home with CIA psyop brainwashing
on every channel every messageboard
every social media network to control us
how we think & how we act

Back home phishing for clicks with bot
accounts & links to malware for anyone
especially some more than others

Back home not too far from where the contractors
want to wrap everything up on their terms
whatever the fuck that mean$

Back home sniping innocent refugees
after Katrina just like they did
to the unarmed folks of Nusoor Square

Back home where their best idea
is to go big or go home with military & surveillance spending
they know what’s coming

Back home collapsing desperate
until the very last second it’s
already too late 

Back home where solutions will become
inevitable talking points against
an opposing party to strengthen theirs

Back home where they’d probably try
to kill us all but they’re vampires
that feed off us just ask Virginia

Back home hyped up & bitchslapped
by fear into blind compliance
scapegoating distractions deflect

Back home where you should go
it’s cheaper to do what exactly
if we already know all of this 

Back home not buying it but still watching you
just to see the type of bullshit & candycorn
you’re feeding less by the day
 

Back home cooking dinner in bacon grease
adding cannabis to everything
a dark orange hue that blankets the woods

Back home brewing like a kettle
for a cup of coffee watching it all
unfold from within the confines of a gulch

Back home ensnared but cut loose filtering
the bluelight getting a good nights sleep
I always keep a sharpened blade on me

Back home dusty & wildfire faced
black shirt, black lighter
black everything





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Jingo the projector

                  What are you gonna do
                          when no one likes you

  I wanna know

             What’s the difference
       between a chem and some lead


  A lie and the truth


  We see you
from the other side
   we turn our heads
          and let you die


                         It looks so right
               giftwrapped in a need
                             to do something

                Doesn’t it—

      Those bombs of love and freedom