Whiskey Painted Holocaust

Black death negative.

I heard a voice in my head


pleading with me

to go.

I held on,

despite the rising tide

of terror

and the insane screaming.


What have I done?

What is still left to do?

There was a point to this

when I began,

I’m sure of it now.

All those little

make sense

make sense

over and over,

so comforting.


The truth is a lie.

Ignore storms at your own peril.

Seek that

sleek, black

double blind study data.

Oooh yeah,

that’s the real stuff.

Stuff it in my brain,

just pick an orifice;

I’m ready.


Learn me up good,

I’ve got an argument

on the internet

that I’m never gonna win,

but I’ve got time

and so much anger,

might as well

jump in the fire.


Roll over,

you lithe, little automatons.

Stroke your A.I.

neural node clusters,

like a soft dick,

ready to unfold

and fuck the world.


Night comes

and I hold my breath,

waiting for the bombs to come.

Sunglasses on,

high as fuck,

with a cigarette.

Who cares now?

They’re landing on the mountains of Megiddo.

Better bring your own chair,

this place is filling up quick.


HG – 2017

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