hieroglyphs for a new age socialist capitalism

Come buy hieroglyphs for a new age socialist capitalism –

Here are glyphs,

there are glyphs,

everywhere ya’ go are glyphs.

 

a nut with

a

hammer

above us….

(remember, I

warned you there is

life

in the dancing machinery,

as night fractures the fetters of my neighbour’s dreams –

 

 

rain on the heavy traffic –

I was full of ink & memories

& crazy

& hats floated over public beards like billboard clouds”

– the buses are burning them,

once again with platitudes of consumerism dressed up as social activists marching for the children of the night/here they howl for Freedom & the Latest Authentic Sexy Deodorant)

– not just brazen jackdaws, as in them were icicles of care & despair

– once the clock died of boredom,…. the seconds have not

slept well… neither have I ……

 

The

city…?

I don’t believe,

me too!

 

Last night my

neighbours’

“wastebaskets”,

hands in tatters,

their torsos of lighting sang of whales near the coast of Dalarnja; we all follow them & sail away to the shores of Graustark &

Anguthimri….

 

my neighbourhood,

a godforsaken pannier of tears & teacups,

is modulated by seagulls & cats

clinging to advertisements –

 

You Too Can have New Friends & A Perfect Face !!

Even in the Drizzle of Grey Mourning !

Now Improved with Extra Vitamins & Megabytes !

– and makes me stop & stare at

my neighbour,

wasted basking nets

 

– and makes me flop over my n’nàbaidh’s worn out footsteps putting out the garbage & the recycling,

hoping climate change won’t crack open the chasm of Xenophobia & Leagenphobia ,

raking up the shadows – constructed offal,

lies & one time offers,

as crackling theorems ignite,

divulge burning forests in the shape of cultural change & ocean currents …..

once – not ravens or seers,

as in hailstones,

there are many unsafe….

 

and in the rain,

covered in scabs,

like hieroglyphs on yesterday’s skin,

the neighbourhood is full of

refugees from angry tweets,

commercials & pullout ads.

 

Note: Taking inspiration from Nia’s post  Cloudy Morning

& using the Text Mixer tool I composed the Dadaist meditation on cultural observations.