the philosophy of van gogh

doped up and dropped out
missing the encore
opining on war
with a valentine whore

grabbing at grey notebooks
while sipping domestic beer
no tear
fuck that political seer

i see words written on the steps
of some lonely playground
words that dance in front of me
like the memories of
forgotten summer children
searching the streets for quarters
in the dusty spring rain

words like manipulated images
the masses want glasses
full of
obsolete attraction
and constant extraction

some of us live
only to repeat
a certain sense of retreat
as empty stomach’s remind us of
greener days and subtle praise
black temple fools
are just mules
for a different age

remembered in haste
as a passive poet porn star
or poverty’s superstar
like a page that slowly fills
like a glass that quickly spills
plotting tomorrow’s course
with mild amusement
as we wait for another obscene gesture

world of color
world of white
guided gently
by the sounds of night
negative copyright
infamous birthright
rolling slowly
across a sea of waning kilobytes

we meditate and disassociate
deviate, infuriate
congregate and communicate

tilting towards
intoxication and procreation
movements of fabrication
and finally
glorious evocation

tired of the human spell
as heavy minds
are ripped from solitary consignment
we are animated in silent levity
as three dried leaves
are crushed and burned
it’s penance in the final act

ambient agitation
hesitant revocation
sitting here with the door closed
i could write the world out of existence

days like this,
days like this call for
vacant expressions
and abbreviated confessions

the gods have granted us a new setting
to perfect our art
dangerously unfamiliar
unnamed, untamed
incoherent as we wait
for littered and lettered fantasies
to arrive



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