hold onto the boxing match,
stay in the gold medals ring of rounds;
give into the Fight Club,
what is one or two knockouts? Beat, be beaten, and get up
to shoot yourself out of the squared circles,
and land into the paper empty cup–
step into
the center of the Fort,
fight the heart of a cold nothingness–
the unbroken w[hole] of the scam;
let visions steam in money metaphors;
tangent gold;
art investment funds,
tension markets riding on a dissonance
of endless iced symphony
and derivative vapors
until sharp ox horns
puncture haze of unleashed hunger game dreams
letting them bleed.
Have you been yet eaten by the political jackals
and central bank hyenas?
They will gorge themselves
to the last slurp of a cracked bone marrow of the innocent.
Find the Earth’s skeletal future shackled
with sheets of encrypted secret deals;
sold ports
soulless fracking lands
net of keystone pipeline fields
frozen thermostats
and rouge snow-flakes
bowling the avalanche;
Find us all berried beneath a tortoise’s shield
marked with an inscription of suffering,
crumbled
under the ruins of forgotten knowledge and history;
they will get us all…
cut us all as we are poisonous fruits
ready to fall off a thirsty fig tree
transfigured into the bubble assets
and back-ally credits,
all with no liquidity,
dried thoughts.
Prunes.

So tell me,
when will you strip restless flags
from your face
and walk free again
through the fields of marching banners?
When will you be one with the Earth
and become the rest of us?
Fight the rip tide
never swim to the shore;
in the midst of a blasting ocean storm
embrace daily roars of the stock-market bells
with a nightly silence;
for life is a ship
on an open sea
without horizon
and only when stranded
it’s drowned¬†wrecked
in a breathless panic beat;
Do you hear one handed circle clapping?
Gavel to gavel.

Ox Herding Pictures

Ox Heardings Pictures

Ox Hearding PicutresThe Empty Circle

 

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