Wonderland Covered In Tar

By Nathan Payne | pablosmoglives | 28 Apr 2021

Wonderland Covered In Tar

lost
in the weird boiling
brew
of ethereal goo,
the primordial suitcase
of single-celled shirts
and bacterial shoes

where stars are mistaken for planes,
madness for brains
stagnation for change

where doors
creak open like cricks
where birds fly like bricks
through a plate-glass
sky
shattered & cracked,
we're over-rated & under
attack, attracted precisely
to what makes us sick;
for my next magic
trick,
I'll stick my head in the sand
& fry an egg in the
palm of my
hand

we all sit down
to our fictional feast
from the last to the least
from the west to the east,
ordered to cease
& desist,
or is it cyst & deceased?

I'll luvya baby,
'til the wind starts to wheeze
'til the flies hate the fleas
'til the sun hates the sea
'til the quarantine-age
refugees
are forced to their knees
in a vacant-lot forest
of itinerant
trees

who sees
the arrogant,
self-assured grin?
when the man squeeze the trigger,
does he figure he'll win?
does he count the cost?
does he carry his cross?
does he think he's the boss?
does he know that he's lost?
his soul is demolished!
does he polish his shoes
with the 5 o'clock news?
does he iron his shirts
with terror alerts?
does he know where it hurts?
does he think he can choose?

pigs!
you are what we eat
this is no trick or retreat
the word's on the street
you're a jerk
& a joke,
all mirrors & smoke
aloof & elite,
& just when you think you've got us all beat
will be the day that you choke
on the words you excrete

you're both below & above
but you're not my beloved
shoved
in the back
by the powers that be,
forced to draw
blood from a honeybee
by another power-tripping wannabe
Angel-of-God,
are you a friend or a fraud?
I was sentenced to death
by admiring
squad

sitting under the parachute trees
waiting for the sunshine to freeze, teasing
the birds in their
nest
I sleep with a knife in my chest, infested
with ants & armed to the teeth
I scared off the bones
that were buried
beneath my
bed,
I'll get a job when I'm dead,
I said I'm not leavin' my post!

in a former life I was a ghost