by Scott C. Kaestner
sometimes hours seem like years and days like minutes
nonsense makes sense and sensibility - a lost art in history
amidst tumultuous tsunamis of imbecility and perceived
omnipotence
the world appears destined to spin off its axis
and I'm left behind trying to hold onto whatever remains of this
life as we - as I know it to be
twenty-first century american dream
a new-age nightmare
where...
false deities dance in darkness
pumping their iron fists of fury
swinging at everything in sight
almighty machine-fed fascists
igniting their lightning rods
upon the powerless masses
operation freedom explodes globally
and locally cities of lost angels
cry for an evolving revolution
see the meek inherit mother earth
while the arrogant are intent
on destroying her at last
mine her fields - strip her jewels
drill her sands - suck her nipples dry
to inject petroleum into junkies vein
tear down all screaming trees
and erect concrete walls and
mini-malls on every acre
open all the gates to flood
the markets with mass
distribution of absolutely nothing
immense profits gobbled up by
pot-bellied capitalist pigs
wallowing in their piles of shit
richy's riches play hard
and the poor pray softly
for salvation only miles apart
shadows of ourselves roam
boulevards of broken dreams
looking for something to eat
the doomed are damned
the rich get richer
and politicians are false promises
bombs aren't for free
and either jesus or jihad
is coming soon to one and all
the ghettoes are angry
the suburbs are numb
and civility has fled the coup
marxists march in desperation
hippies take another hit
and anarchists clash with police
poets spit truth in anonymity
while so-called reality
bites the tv trip flick
and an infinite flock of sheep
swallow vagina sandwiches with
sticky-sweet phallic desserts
only to vomit their semen
n' eggs and lie naked
in empty gardens of eden
and reproduce and reproduce
and reproduce and reproduce
and reproduce and reproduce
the same-ole' story
spinning forever round
and round the same-ole' conclusion
the world appears destined to spin off its axis
and I'm left behind trying to hold onto something I should have
let go of - long ago - so
goodbye...
lost
civilization
goodbye...
lost
nation
goodbye...
my eyes
are wide
open.
Scott C. Kaestner is a poet/spoken word artist who resides in West Hollywood, California. His poetry emanates from a strong voice and is inspired by the strange yet sublime nature of life on this planet. His poems have been published in Poesy, The Blind Man's Rainbow, Mastodon Dentist, Alpha Beat Soup, Confused in a Deeper Way, Poetic Diversity, the San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly, Struggle, and various anthologies along the way. He recently published his first chapbook, The Great Charade, and appeared on the upcoming television pilot Lyrically Speaking. To purchase a copy of The Great Charade or for information about upcoming publications, chapbooks, and events - please e-mail coastalcubby@earthlink.net