so it is ordained

pre-destined and cosmically mandated

I must die here

in my hometown

the city I hate with my whole soul

the Capital of the World

the place where

"everybody comes to ball baby!"

the place where the Masters of the Universe

plot their next move to squeeze the Living Juice

out of those who wish for concord

neighborliness and just plain getting along

(oh don't preach to me the evil that's in

even the least of them

we're all evil

all our hands are dirty

that's mere human nature

and you'll need a better excuse than that)

not to mention the town mice

who stream here to be

a part of this conundrum of bullshit

the little wannabes from the heartland

who believe the movies

who think Cary Grant walks into every fancy restaurant

looking for Ingrid Bergman waiting

at the assignation point

the little town mice who sully their own dreams

with their pomposity and delusions

and we here

real beyond acceptance

suffering on a day by a day

having to listen to these power-mad nobodies

who are ruling us to death

(and again don't preach to me about

tolerance and acceptance

I will not bless their circus

and the hell it makes for those

who could care less

who have more important things to ponder

like survival)

I tired to escape but there was none to be had

God for some reason insists

I die here in this sad cesspool of dreamer's dominion

maybe I was one of them once

in some other time

and God is mercilessly extracting His price

this unforgiving God of Love

does it matter now

as the whole world goes down a third time?

as their lame ambition and foolish mendacity

sinks them as they sit in their fancy restaurants

waiting for their entrees?

no sour grapes here

I never wanted those things

and I was called on that too

no we are here to face whatever music

of absolute Apocalypse

tinkles out if the piano bar

or blares out of every jukebox

in whatever trendy bar

the happy mindless hedonists of Pompeii

waiting for the last call

and not knowing it's the last call

God demands I endure this

God has denied me my wish

to die in Maine

in a shack over a lake at twilight

ruminating on the ruin of all things

(my own fantasy

go ahead and hector me

my fellow assholes in creation)

we all want out

and will get it but not as

we imagined or wanted it

and that includes His self-appointed prophets

we His own wondrous lop-sided Crown of Creation

so it is ordained

enough rope

for myriad necks

and plenty to spare

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.