Despite All My Rage

“We are born into a preinvented existence within a tribal nation of zombies
and in that illusion of a one-tribe nation there are real tribes.”
~ David Wojnarowicz

if I
run naked through the streets
clothes flung from body
kicks
white ass meat hair chest
arm fat
running
free from the cages of fear
free
of faceless purgatories,
of self-imposed prisons
of wars supposedly won and lost
in generations before mine
here
screaming incomprehensible joy

chased now by the Hounds of Peace
sirens and light strobe chain slogans
reciting from robot memory
excising an abnormality from the fold
to be sent away
and diagnosed
and medicated,
I

an individual can be ignored

if we were ten thousand, well
now we have a protest!
now we can be heard!

telephone rang the other day
I answered to a woman representative of
Cable Provider
she
prefaced the offer with
“a deal you won’t find in any brochure”
$5.00 per/mo. extra for
an outrageous amount of content
good for 6 months before regular rates
I replied
“I’m good with what I have, thanx”

Oh?
what’s holding you back, Mister Watchel?

“I really don’t watch that much television”
she seemed panicked, request denied
respectfully refused
the phone call was being recorded
she said
to be reviewed later
she implied
with that high-pitched “please daddy” voice
unaware that she is an Agent
working for the Corporate Collective
that not all of us
are so easily seduced

disgusted
I
gazed lazily out
the living room window at the world
at the Industrial Complex
and felt afraid for the minds
being raped night after night
connected to the imagination stealing devices

to the Name Brand Trust
to the consumer market idiocy
the need to belong
consciously creating cliques
exclusivity

individuality now archetypal
trend, label
purchase this product and receive
a membership ticket
now
valued by the secret club
creating generations of subservient worshippers

I threw my radio into a public park
demanding change
I photographed a homeless picking bottles
on Main Street for ironic purposes
I scraped ice from a windshield
with a DVD
I dreamed of degenerate art
made from broken computers

in the future
Western landfills will be excavated
by curious archeologists wondering
where it all went so horribly
wrong

One
speaking out against
the tyranny of Many
will always be
ignored, hunted, a vigilante

many against many
is War

and there is always money to be made
from conflict.

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.

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3 thoughts on “Despite All My Rage

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