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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • IT'S LIKE A CIRCUS

     

    Here is my life friends! The Earth is slowly tripping away, falling into a swamp, and the many Minute-Man victims in Little No Man's land are deliberately lost in their own quiet despair. Before us, everything flows: jobs, careers, hunger wages, privileges on benefits. All the propaganda lies that are officially spread, just like infectious diseases, are almost superfluous. Recklessness or perverse pathos go all the same here.

    We're stuck among ourselves. Western Europe is increasingly on the map. Perhaps it would be better and more useful to go on foot if there were no more despicable doubts and manipulatively compromising obstacles. It is necessary to clarify almost all the cheap-junk parameters: Where Are we so far?! Already below the Frog's bottom?! Can we only be present by doing thirty-six hours a week?

    Let's take a look around! For twenty-one years, a raucous Eldorado of brooding, muttering stooge-monkeys has been holding its own, while human relationships and small communities are being destroyed, not just in the spirit of the collective. Freethinks are strangled as seconds by The XX century. the star-magnitude of the concreted triumvirates of the XIX century, while the XXI century. the contemporary literature of the twentieth century puffs cliches and proverbs for itself.

    The Nihil is already rusting as a cog, just like nothing in Nineveh, because we are already full of Jonah, false prophets. And we can no longer survive without dying in the dregs of days of another indifferent, meaningless, false promise, sneaking handshake!

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