Transmission Burst

by Tallow

Posted to Action Poetry on 2004-01-20 15:35:00

Statements of varying opinion.
Murdered psychopaths line the streets.
Littered like Jerry cans on a war field.
Empty shells of tanks contain no ghost heads, only Marlboro packets.
It’s quiet in a draft.
Clutch tightly to nearby metal.
Show the penchant for hope.
Believe only in what has been delivered.
A man doesn’t believe in drag show.
Homosexuals knock hopelessly on the doors of Western Credit.
Administrators delve into history.
Cataclysmic ruins feature heavily in the new digital catalogues.
Hoard what you know.
Murdered Sherpas line the streets.
Be on first name terms with the syndicate.
Give me plenty of codes to decipher.
Hollow metal pipes make sure I’m on target.
Head is blocked with wet rags.
Spine fluid is only dismembered by the best of us.
Give in as soon as possible.
Riches.
Murdered policies line the streets.
Murdered institutions line the streets.
Make sure they have no recourse for justice.
Locked up and away.
Moulds of plastic make wonderful aesthetic alternatives for love on a dark night.
I would like to hold someone.
Murdered Romeo’s line the streets.
Japanese design has finally infiltrated the minister’s quarters.
It’s said he has a Geisha in reserve.
For when the nuclear hits.
It will be like a blown sail.
Ore no kane.
Ore wa kane.
Murdered Japanese line the streets.
High gates will be erected.
They keep most of it on the hard drives.
Electricity for reason.
Look after all vital information.
It’s imperative we get the facts to the board.
Log all the eye colours you can find.
There are forty seven different shades of Hazel.
It is all accountable.
They will be made out of skull’s, and the remains of Robots.
Robots will one day fly.
Fly, fly us away from here.
Take me to the other world colonies.
Idea’s only flutter like fleas.
Flea’s circus.
Clown circus process lines.
Manufactured in the nick of time.
Someone give that man an award.
Life is a rusted hulk of missed opportunity.
My existence is pointless.
My existence is pointless.
My existence is pointless.
My existence is pointless.
Murdered freakshows line the streets.
There is a promise of sanctuary for all.
The Government decrees it.
Administer most drugs to at least twice the prescribed dose.
A doctor in time is a doctor indeed.
There is a bum who rubs his coins constantly – both of them – and they gleam…
There is no order.
There is only protagonists.
Take each case as it is presented.
Circumnavigate what you can.
Meander uselessly outside the boardroom.
Flinch if your name is called.
It’s easy to transmute.
Become wall panelled.
Murdered wall panels line the streets.
My existence is mainly pointless.
My existence is pointless.
Adding will never end.
Mathematics has a real kick.
Look out.
Super division is the aim.
Critical mass is reached with little resistance.
Cryogenics is pointless.
The Will is indivisible.