I see the broken eyes of a generation staring back at me
with dirt on their backs and nothing to say,
clenching their tiny dreams, with their tiny hands
melting beneath the heat lamps of the privlidged

I see a world of cosmic philosophers and bible puppets
clinging to the vision of the loudest prophet
with the biggest wallet and the newest guns
the nicest compliments, and a contagious disease

Ralley now and wave the flags
painted in the purist colors
to be blended with the other flags
and funnelled into a bubbling black soup,
in a cauldron, hanging precariously on a bar
above all the ones who are wrong. the other ones.

Today I watched an advertisement
and two million dollars flashing before my eyes
for an advertisement about a new beer
which I found in my cart the next day

When I tasted the tastlessness
I vomited the bolts
the concrete
and the sweat,

the mind-numbers.

A little later a scientist released a report
stating all his other reports were wrong
and our minds are all dead
extinguished by capitolism --
a mere side effect.