Psychic tension, of postmodern thoughts
Self accusations, grand superficial narratives...
Like Ezra Pound I see my reflection
And put into the narrative my own story.
I see poetry is destroyed, and literature too;
The feminist breakdances at the Olympics
And finally the world sees what I have been saying
If only for a brief moment, and then it goes
Back to its squalor. "Vogue, Vogue, Vogue,
"The markets are God, nonsense is the only sense;
"We must be like Picasso and see everything in all dimensions."
Yet, his most beautiful portrait is simply his lover
In elegant lines.

Do know, I had not cooked a thing
Athena destroyed the world
And allowed me to be plagiarized.
You wanted to save America
By causing the letter to be delayed
But instead it destroyed it.
Good job... your ignorance failed you
Of seeing the times, and half times, and a time;
Accusing me of your own dirty work.
Not very wise, my friend.
Because of your plot and scheme, they won.

If I could say one
Word to both groups it would be
This: You both are in
The same boat. Nobody wants 
You in their land, so they dumped 

You there. It won't make world peace, but's true.

Drinking my Joe in my left hand
I read a man's poem, that I can understand.
So different it is from all the others
It is a happy poem, and deep as ether.
It is like I could have wrote it
But it isn't quite so,
Just a new generation of poets
That I have sown.
No more squalid themes of piss and shit
But of beauty, and love, and the sweet apple pit.
A little bitter, a little poison
Brought to the remedy of joy's enjoyment.
I drink, and I now understand
A new generation of poets to defeat the old ones
That I can't stand.

Russia genocides Ukraine.
Israel and Iran genocide each other.
HAMAS and Hezbollah kill children
And rape dead women's corpses.
COVID rocked the world
And corrupted the entire medical industry.
The Paris Olympic's opening ceremony.
Great Britain thinks about extraditing foreign nationals
For offensive comments made online.
BLM and Antifa Riots.
Neo Nazis waving Swastika flags.
Christian persecution in First World Nations.
Leftist Leaning Groups waving Swastika flags.
University DEI police.
College Professors getting fired and losing tenure because they offended their students.
Elementary children taught about Transgenderism and Homosexuality.
Young Children being put on puberty blockers.
College Students brainwashed.
Jordan Peterson losing his professional license and told he needs to be reeducated.
First World Nations putting people in prison for what they say and believe.
Spy agencies policing free speech.
Farmers being told they aren't allowed to farm.
This is the best time in history, though.

I sympathize with you,
As I read your boring manifesto.
Striving to cause men to circumcise
Imagination and worldly pleasures
To sit idly on Saturday and stare at the wall;
And probably to eat food without salt or spices.
It is a Christianity I hate brother,
For it is no Christianity I am able to follow...
But you and I are in agreement, that sin
Destroys the world.

From having spent five months in jail...
I would never wish that on anyone, 
You're not going to get butt molested--you could sue the crap out of someone for doing that, 
And also the prison for not protecting you--
But it's very lonely; like imagine having no friends, no family, and your closest allies can turn on you 
At any moment. 

You can get beat up, though. 
That does happen. 
Or stabbed. 
But not molested. 

I'm sure it does happen, but it's easy to prove, 
And there's people there that would get on your side and build a case against the prison for you, 
And you'd be compensated. 

The prison doesn't want people getting raped or committing suicide, 
Do to that reason. 

But then don't trust anyone in there. 
Not the shrinks, not the COs, not the other inmates, not the counselors. 
The best thing is to just take your showers, 
Keep your cell from stinking, 
And don't say a word that isn't necessary to anyone. 

Too many extroverts get in there, 
And they have the most problems 
Because the only person you can trust is the Chaplain for the most part.

I do not know you, my precious doe;
Looking over the grasses, I ponder
Over yon the halcyon sky, and know
Very well, somewhere you charm
Every soul with your precious smile.
You are beautiful, and wholesome;
Only, wait for me, and we shall meet
Under the mandrakes in June, to eat.

I only want you, my beautiful creature;
Loving you is all I have ever wanted.
Onto other dreams, my soul languishes:
Vaunting for a life without you, my
Enemies cry, noon after noon, night after night.
You are my precious dove,---somewhere
Over the rainbow, you are the shoemaker
Under the bow's prism, who shall forge my fortune.

I do not want another, but do not know you.
Languishing upon my dreams, that they fail:
Ontology, Epistemology, Metaphysics
Vainly do I pour over, waiting for your love:
Every eve, I consider our bodies touching.
You, only you, do I want, though I have not your
Oil, for the balm in Gilead has not salved my
Ulcer, the wound I have in waiting for your love.

I know not who you are, or your face
Lo, not even your eyes, or your nose, or your hair
Or  your body... But your ideal form, I wait
Valiantly for your love, with an image of you
Every day; your precious face I have conjured.
You are my precious one, of mercy and peace.
Opposite to me, I wish you to be seated
Under the mandrakes in June, to eat.

Oh, Dr. Welter, you cast down the pillar at Shechem.
For you cannot tolerate the God of all being true.
In fury, you cast it down, and break the stone to pieces,
For you cannot tolerate the God of all being true.
Oh, Dr. Welter, you cast down the pillar at Shechem
For you are modern man, and modern man must make the Bible untrue,
For you cannot tolerate the God of the Bible being true.
Oh, Dr. Welter, you cast down the pillar at Shechem
For you cannot tolerate the God of all being true,
Like our modern atheists, you toss the stone over the embankment
For you cannot tolerate the God of all being true.