DOORMAT TELEKINESIS

Television and misrepresentaion.
Hierarchy is phallic elevation.
Tabloid sensation, trail of production.
The righteous authorites are coming.
The neon signs are hauntingly silent.
The stockbrokers are aroused and cumming.
The price of oil is rising.
The obsolescence of modern reason
is the renaissance of leaving.
The empty solitude of symbols
is the West's amplitude of "evil".
Rogue nation, which TV station?
Power station, which proxy nation?
Keep your arse glued to the cushion of luxury,
unaware of omnipresent hyperreality.
Nothing can be said that has not been said before.
The free markets lies are coming through the door,
So the doormats dust themselves off and rise up.
Amputees regenerate limbs and hurl molotov cocktails
straight into the cholesterol-clogged heart of a system that's KKKorrupt.
Pirates draw their swords and furl their sails.
And the pacifists raise their brows and turn the other cheek,
but if they think the Revolution can be bloodless,
Then they are naive angels ejected from heaven.
Words, words, words, metaphysical turds.
Judge a man based on his actions and not his words.

August 06