Eye consulted,
to the extrapolation of necessity,
in disregard of
vanity; I append
My notion of priority,
over
that of deputy,
To the assumption of cause & effect,
I gauged assuaged intangibles,
and prioritized
an undefined ascension
of incongruous
speech.
Abolition of her reactionary obscenity;
to dust
& ash,
we force vocabulary
Down her throat,
and when she speaks with violence,
Our silence,
Is glorified.
Repercussive nostalgia,
a vent;
totality
of influenza,
Sharpened minds
bat at,
some incongruous
piñata.
What are we living for,
if not
to alter,
if not to affect;
Silence prepends, and the
systemic voices,
carry.
I've left Rome burning,
with my eyes
on the past,
I left
her in tears.
The past is over, now.
And while we exchange
words,
there's little violence,
just the hum
of our
unconsciousness.
To speak is to assume,
as voices
turn,
A violence of the mind,
Vibrance;
a blossom of peculiar distinction.
A rose; fornicating
with unconstitutional precedence.
Give me liberty.
Machine, vibrating; hum,
marked Capitalism.
Naked and burning boy;
my Democracy.
How thick the smog
of evangelical media;
hanging
on every word,
this
Avant-garde revolt;
develops, with its guttural tone,
Apostasy & neglect.
I am privileged; I --
contain multitudes.
FAUCI: "Although we'd love to get back to businesses usual, just take a look at the numbers. You can see it's not over. There are 1,000 or so deaths every day. There are, last time we looked, around 20,000 new infections each day. It's not over. It's just not."