The Static Feed

Though it may seem a ridiculous quote, Lenin makes a beautiful point. Many people refrain from participating in politics (in part) because they believe the entire system is far too complicated for them to understand and thus change. This conception isn’t a fact of life, the elite have drilled us into submission by repeating this lie: “You are dumb. You are dumb. You are dumb.”

Workers all burn

with the same wrath.

I missed my mom's funeral

HE said no to time off

I bear lesions lining my feet

HE would fire me if not

I produce everything

HE takes everything

I have

nothing

but a rage. Festering.

That pest of an urge

thinking you're alone; 

I only feel that way.

One shift on the factory-floor

with hope, will go sour

a mental-twig will snap

collectively. We'll look up to our boss's window

catch him chomping a cigar

leering above us in

air-conditioned comfort

legs shoulder length apart, grinning

picturing his balls dropping from his

designer attire and

plopping on the heads of

all he employed.

WE

as a union, realize

he has only an office door

blocking the mob

he can't prevent change with

guns aimed on 'em

he is puny

WE are a galaxy surrounding

Gays shouldn't be looking for friends or allies

We need accomplices; if

YOU don't defend US

YOU aren't terrorizing those who target US

YOU refrain from committing ample amounts of violence for US

WE disown you

WE don't want you I hate

you.

I know what needs to be done.

The only thing a slime pot of confederates and yanks acknowledge

is oppression

and power. These pathetic piles of poorly-dressed rubes

cherish their navy-blue gestapo goons

adore anti-social Silicon moguls, all they respect

is an iron fist clinching their prostates

Ours will be wrapped

in rusty barbed wire.

Perfect World:

straight boys often cut themselves

because they fondle to boobs

rather than dicks, like everyone else.

Cis normatives would strangle themselves in the streets, homeless

lost in being the minorities minority.

I would stew at the towns local gay-supremacist bar

get drunk before hog-tying a straight-stranger

speed down a rocky-dirt-road, dragging them behind

dust blasting out their skittering skull

nail them up to a fence in the middle of nowhere

cackle at straightie trying to stay alive

whispering for help. They'll die out there

mauled and alone.

I'd be brought in for questioning, of course

it wouldn't lead anywhere. I'd go free.

“Boys will be boys,” The sheriff would say

next to her wife, “You can't be acting straight

and not expect there to be problems.”

That disgust in you, of me

that burning ball of mercury

mustering in your gut

“How awful. Unjust.”