It takes days
just to muster the strength
to clean this killing field
that used to be a living room .
And during that time
of personal inaction
plans have been hatched
by others
regarding world domination .
Maps on coffee tables don't come close .
Timetables pinned to time cracked walls .
And suicide bombers
on the internet
proving that random murder is selfish
and doesn't take balls
in fact doesn't take much at all .
Just point out the target
to any activist who's willing to die
and watch as they swing into action
without hesitation
as the petrol bombs fly .

Seems like society
has a lot of pent up frustration
related to sex and death .
The sort of problem
that wanking won't cure .
A lack of negation .
A lack of breath .

All I get is images
of lost and lonely souls
streaming pornography bytes
and pulling sour faces
when confronted with the evidence
of sexual acts
they had never dreamed of .

And it rinses them out
totally .
And they feel regretful
after the event .
Anything to pass the sterile hours .
Insanity must kill
more than the statistics
ever allowed for .

Look in any magazine
in any waiting room
and see
glossy pictures of virtual women
with improbable beauty .
People aspire to that .
The artificial life
and the virtual dream .
The truth is hidden underneath
layers of advertising hype
but nobody searches too hard
nobody reads between the lines
of acceptable propaganda tripe .
And everyone just keeps on hoping .
And somewhere in the city
there is an advertising slogan
that states clearly
Do not adjust your mind
it's only reality that's broken .

It did not take too long
eventually
to clean the killing fields
sweep the floor
bag up the trash
fill the machine
polish a bit
just a week of prior forethought and planning
and woebegone dread .
As I tortured myself with trivial ideas .
In the end
nobody wins
as I try to cope with
the uninvited things
that invade my head .
I scream loud
at night
in dreams
in a lonely bed .