the progeny of the bad rumble past 
casually deep in bright cars 
guns concealed on pretty pills with a radio blaring Musicology
beneath this sickly pomade coated sun of an unappreciative mother 
who neither loves nor cares anything negative or greater than 
a broken bottle in the backyard of the heart of a tight fisted yuppie
fearfully pushing a carriage exposed to this megalopolitan night terror

the speed of light is a perpetual drone beneath all things
 
I am downloaded into this articulation with damaged cognizance trusting there is a backup someplace my designer had the deliberation to keep and proposes to access my frame 
to fill these gaps that plague my inadequate circuits running an undependable and delicate system of leaky valves corroded by time and glucose
 
clarinets and sirens sing a constant poem of defeat as appliances collide and the archaic threaten over and above to expire with unpaid debts only to find themselves revived and returned to the system for another collection cycle
 
one paw beyond steady paw I crush the bones of the structures that preceded my arrival 
grinding slowly from the pit my optic ever hopeful to record a particle of light dripping from a fractionally imaged cup someplace above the  village

this established from a description erased and disappeared but still I keep the folder. 

movement is unrelenting protracted chaos only 
as heavy metal combustion returns bulletproof and loaded 
children behind tinted windows point with glee 
pissing joy 
pop pop pop pop pop projectile fractures splinter bone and stone bespattered fluids 

branch over here legs over there fluttering monkeys tearing straw to feed the witch arrived to take my ticking heart 
Connection M, Connection M, Please return me to my designer. 
no glory of function only dark 
online in the dark and lonely for the great burst of decay feeding a cycle of beauty 
not even a cask of amontillado chained and bricked in this place of horror

system failure I am going offline.

​​Okay. 
This is for the men out there. 
Maybe the women too. 
I just have to say one thing guys. 
Hold onto your balls. 

Now, I don't mean cause someone's gonna kick them
or you're about to pull a Michael Jackson move 
or so they don't sink into the toilet. 

No. 

I mean, hold onto your balls guys. 
Keep them close. 
Don't let them get lost in the breeze. 
Don't let them swing in the wind. 
Don't let them out of your pants 
unless you're pounding them against someone's ass. 

You see guys
we will snip at them every chance we get. 

And remember, 
it’s the little things that nick away at your balls 
until they're gone. 

Take out the garage . . . 
No, not like that
tie it up over the can. 
No, you're not done. 
Put a clean bag in now. 

Hold onto your balls guys. 
We will snip at them every chance we get. 

It would be nice if you helped with the laundry . . .
No, not like that 
you have to separate. 
No, not like that
kitchen towels and body towels and dog towels and
NO, those are my special towels. 
No you can't use them, they're new. 

Hold onto your balls. 

It would be nice if you wore that black tank top 
I bought you . . .
No, you don't look gay. 
Besides, I like the way gay guys look. 
Yes, I know you're not gay 
but you look sexy. 
No, not gay sexy
New York sexy. 

Come on guys. 
Remember
it’s the little things that nick away at your balls 
until they're gone. 

Hold onto your balls 
because once we sever them you can't get them back.
Once we sever them 
there will be no more sex for you buddy. 
Who wants to have sex with a guy with no balls? 
When we say jump
grab us by the back of our neck 
and plant a hard one. 
When we say come 
say what the fuck for. 
And when we say you're going too fast . . . 
slow down 
don't tailgate 
go around this car 
turn on your lights 
the musics too loud
let me drive! 

Then pull over 
toss the keys to us 
get out 
and walk away 
saving your precious beautiful balls. 

The end of the world is coming
Yes the end of the world
And it’s Your Fault

You dug up the grave of everything that ever lived 
You rubbed its grease in your hair
You boiled the whales
Drank the ancient forests,
and finally, 
you squeezed blood from a lump of coal

Yes the end of the world
The end of the world is coming
And it’s Your Fault

Were you planning to recycle that plastic?
Fuck you, that’s a joke, it’s too late, nobody wants it
That shit is forever
It’s in the ocean, it’s in your food
It surges under your skin with every beat of your heart

Yes the end of the world
The end of the world is coming
And it’s Your Fault

It’s not a prophesy
It’s not an asteroid
It’s not a flaming apocalypse of a thousand 
Nuclear suns
I have been to the end of the world
It is a fucking Shipping Container stuck in the mud of a shallow polluted harbor

Yes the end of the world
The end of the world is coming
And it’s Your Fault

That flesh eating bacteria is really just some new shit that learned to eat the oil you spilled in your backyard
now it’s feasting on the micro plastic in your cells

Yes the end of the world
The end of the world is coming
And it’s Your Fault

Your boy is fat and growing tits because 
the Mac N Cheese you feed him has more 
hormones than a teenage girl
and when he realizes he will never get laid 
he’s gonna spew his rage in bullets 
across the playground

Yes the end of the world
The end of the world is coming
And it’s Your Fault

You pissed all of your disease
all your medical waste
all your toxic dye 
into the rivers and 
you sold the fucking ocean 
for a fistful of nickels
you let your last cup of fresh water
dribble away through a leaky valve in your toilet

Yes the end of the world
The end of the world is coming
And it’s Your Fault

Measles are back
What the fuck?
Polio is back
Why?
In Africa they’re chopping up doctors 
during an Ebola outbreak
Why? you ask…
Because somebody lied to you on Facebook and 
YOU hit SHARE

Yes the end of the world
The end of the world is coming
And it’s Your Fault

You ignorant fucking twits
That beautiful rosewood guitar your playing 
while you sing on Earth Day
They had to clear an acre of rainforest
to get the one tree needed to build that thing

Yes the end of the world
The end of the world is coming
And it’s Your Fault

you left the lights on
you left the tap open
you left the engine running
you didn’t turn off the oven
you threw the wrapper on the ground
tossed the bottle out the window
you had Amazon send a 49 cent
plastic toothbrush in a plastic box halfway around the world on a jet to your front door

The end of the world is coming

Yes the end of the world
And it’s All Your Fault