Prose

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We all wrestle with our wakefulness

not wanting to cooperate with our

overacting proteins and enzymes-

Our forced multifunctional thought

processes broken by ever advancing

drug- crank-coke-tea-whore-

Living our redundant - low cost - efficient

bountiful American non-culture

destroying even our ability to communicate

Lost to the eternal questions;

Will I be able to afford that?

Do I work tommorrow? Is breakfast ready?

Dry-heave away your miseries

with Prozac-Zoloft night visions

Uninterrupted until you wake with

your pillow between your legs

curled in a fetal position of pure delight-

Break through your endless madness-

into a sky of everlasting happy thoughts

Brought to you by the letter 'A' and wrapped in a soft blue cardigan

The Laborers' SpoonWhere stories live. Discover now