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Superstition
has inclined me to
retreat into repression.
I saw night protection
when I manufactured a dream catcher's web-
I know my life is on a limb during the day,
but when night falls-
Armaggedon comes to parlay...
so I thought a net could catch the demons
crossing in my mind,
I never conceived to wrestle with the demons
in the night.
But while weaving this moral buffer zone,
I got red rope burns,
willing stigmata
on my own.
After I finished making this dream catcher's web,
it turned around and hung me from the head of my bed,
my santuary where I thought I'd be safe in my rest,
but evil doesn't care about my state of consciousness-
an indiscriminate revelation
that exposes the poison before I'm ready for
inhalation.
"Not me, not now!"
the mantra of the naive-
there's no escaping the trails of hypocrisy
left over from every fingertip
every touch
every infultration
sabatoging the nation...
but complaining only puts your fingerprints on the
...blunt...
statement to replace a cough for some cuffs...
you chose to just pass it over-trying to save your mental
health...
but passivity does more damage
than inhaling the plain truth yourself.
The wrong place
the wrong time...
Just open your eyes,
and get off the banana boat
before Uncle Sam enslaves your mind.
But know where you're jumping off into...
just because your anti doesn't mean paid your dues...
Salvation is not in obsessing over nightmares or dreams-
two extremities to let you know you're getting in too deep.
But when you shoot
do you root your values in useless futile feuds?
Pick your battles but don't pick out bullet wounds
cause false motives are precarious-
Stay alert and fastidious
because fascists gained their power through mundane monotomy,
and alacrity distinguishes a virile corpse and a warrior
of morality.
It's necessary to arm yourself
when fighting demons, awake at every time
cause the moment you think your blameless,
Satan welcomes you with your nightlight, the limelight...
"Goodnight."
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