Criptic Critic Conscience and Known for it

Thursday, July 22, 2010

The Dark Ages, Days before the light bulb and the luxury of not needing to Believe in a god.

Sexy tele baby
you're just crack
sexy tele baby
get off my back,
sexy tele baby
I'm so sick of you
sexy tele baby
everything's so blue

Fucking 27, Taiwan.

There are no cats here, to speak of,
some wasted monstrels, lost alive, looking
like they've had a fight and are
walking to their next. Stand out cause
of their dirt, they are filthy,
I've never seen a dirty cat. Dogs
dam it I'll say are plentiful, roam
in polite packs, sleeping anywhere
like cows in india - sacred, for once
a dog jumped into the grave of
his owner and was buried alive I
guess, such is the feeling for this dog.
Traveling through that what is not city,
is a circuit board of total conectivity,
instead of suburbs st's, Rows of properties,
houses are stacked on top of one another,
usually 3 stories surrounded by the human
tapestry of rice field, and the system of
drains and water flows necessary to
regulate such production. No
fields to play in walk through, no woods,
parks, if you do come across one it
suffers from a western imagination, sits
there painfully like a toy no one
wants. Gardens however, manacured trees
arranged plant blocks, with grass areas,
this is public life, and one of the
few places the ratio of 1 person
to perhaps 10 meters squared visibly shows
people relaxing, taking pictures, throwing
balls, flying kites, doing exercise.
I watch. My biggest problem
with being here is that I have
to work. There are no metaphors
no translation for the transformation,
the change of what was mine
to what is dictate absorbed and
re gurgitated as my life, as
Being part of the dominant world of work.
My Hate for this behaviour is
simple and unyeilding. No logic could
fail to understand my reasoning.
The 1st sign of transformation was
the humour, drawed, grained,
character stereotypes fall down like
giant vats steel and ceramic
molds impersonal oblivious squeeze
my head my mouth my lungs
as i laugh while the 1st
Bad Joke of an oppressed men,
screws into the mind of my partner,
screws into place, into my forehead,
the sign saying slave.

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