Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I wanted to be inhaled like weed. I wanted the
womb of wheat against blue skies. I wanted virgin
dreams--yellow roses speaking of snow on Mt.
Rushmore. I wanted enshrined spirits to awaken.
i wanted the Indian to ride the buffalo across my bare back
and the black-brown-red experience to gather into my
breath. I wanted to trust the philosophy
that made Ginsberg howl with holiness and Bukowski reach
for the love of whores and piss-poor drunks at the fast track of the
distinguished elite. I wanted to plagiarize and stuff the Republican-rich
post-impression carpetbaggers into my dirty socks.

Reaching for the still-warm Columbian in my aqua Ikea. (I barely remember
what it is to drink one cup at a time, to wait for my thirst to be satisfied.)
I wondered how many Monsanto carpets I've walked across. How many fires
it takes to kill the soul.


~A

it does seem as if we sold our soul to the the corporation...

that is the FAUXnews purpose. corporatist propaganda, straight up. getting us to stab each other in the back while being robbed blind. getting us outraged over absolutely nothing (the "war on christmas," anyone?)

i like this one...