Cabin Fever

Love for Work Or Cunts

We need a new title---------------->

1-24-05

Corporately salvaging my intakes
and tempering my dislikes
by randomly self-intoned missteps
is my prescription to becoming a solid man.
Learning has to die
by disseminating life through buoyant truancy
has not only become the norm,
but the antidote
to same-body infliction.
It's a story about my life
I've told before
          but the setting has changed
          whilst my elements remain.

I don't cycle; I kaleidoscope.

Disenchantment sings to me
but I la-la-la-
          not to not listen,
          but to drown myself out.
I've been disenfranchised.
I'm still trying to figure
a way to not
          sell myself out.
Self-medication never
mentioned a way
to cure the spine
that takes the brunt
and mine's been spurred
          and spurned
and when high and dry
says "hi and bye",
then, then,
what's your recourse
when the weight of your world
sets a perfectly chaotic
square of a circle
directly on your shoulders
and it says
"I'm turning you on your ear...
we start at zero
but you already have minus 1.3...
you've shown us your mettle,
now bring us your steel."

I know I know better. But do I have to
know for sure?
Do you really know better,
and have you been there?
What are you thinking?
And will you trust me
when I tell you you've
          got it all wrong?

I try to dismiss you because I know you,
once day-in and day-out
but you're too young to remember
and goddammit I'm too old to forget.
We reverse in trends
while still contemplating corporate pretending
and making friends out of old-school amends.
I wonder where you've been
while you seek where I've been,
based not on my disillusion
but your want for inclusion.
Never mind me begging for seclusion
          in times of elusion,
          seeking corporate endearment
          and all of its content
          while mocking its intent /

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