Mickleys mare

[written and cut up via Cathy Mickley via facebook]

I woke today from a dream

placed in cerebral capacity dynamo
in which I was eating

a bowl of rice riddled
like a ton of verbs and nouns
pound for pound wieghed in
with mouse feces.

Even though I recognized
the reality of all the deals
i have provided my selfish hunger
what filth was in my meal

I kept on eating,
until finally
revulsion
took over
and I stopped

the gorge
was a valley not a feeling
a place of undescribable
wealth and fat poured out

and tossed
like bad salad
the taste never will be
ever the same

because the shame that holds us
to value judgement
into chute via plunging hands
minced via waste disposal units
produced by masters of
ergonomics

hunger moves slowly and surely
from potage into trash
kindness moving into
subterranean bowells
movement

it is a traction and a train
led by tracks
most are on it for
your delictation

some rolodex are not labelled
only made,

fixed like insta glue
defication relationships

defiled

reviled
and
relived.

looped majority

no other management would allow
abilites supply them to movement
via shit based pipeline

moaove suspicions create neo
disgust in sham derelict hide-he-holes

i poke my head up

only to look at supreme hammer

nailed me yet again...

on it goes