Talkin ’bout my generation

She is death as she rises and settles

Ominous, tip of a spar in seas always violent

An impossible vessel

I’m afraid to board her

I know I wont be able to get off

Ever

She is mostly underwater.

Narrow decks sit above above a vicious ocean.

A small town of precarious platforms
to be pounded by gigantic swells

A wind that will ripple your face.

She cannot dock in a typical port

She is too deep
She parks well out to sea, beyond the shallow shelf

Crazy ladders and insane slick polished tubes to
take you below

Way below

Tunnels originating in closets

twisted escalators
with claws

Impossible angles and hard to believe machinery

Almost all of her is below the surface
I worry at her buoyancy.

She rises and falls with a very deep ocean and I
understand the dream is about death.

Death blows across my forehead.

She’s swift enough to make her own wind

It’s an impossible vessel.

Impossible, as she is death.

There are wrenches at the end of poles that open
narrow ways to go beneath.

All topside is fraught with disaster

Underneath the waterline is slow sticky death

Hatches and portholes for no reason
She’s fast enough you could be swept off without time to cry out

Below the waterline is comfortable sticky death.

Deeper and deeper with staircases and narrow passages that taper
and taper

The food is warm but the chefs can’t explain it.

They smile as their teeth disintegrate

The white curved walls, the steel reveals the deep and the cold.

It’s an utterly impossible vessel.

A fin that barely breaks the surface with hundreds of
happy dead below the waterline

She speeds on
well ahead of the wind
making her own

The emaciated movie star calls me on the phone, he tells me how great I did coming down that one ladder in the whipping and gusting wet ocean wind

Everyone yelling at me

Another one like every
single other one that leads to comfortable sticky
death.

We dock and brush up against safe places but I cannot
get off her.

They beckon from the white sand but I must wash or
clean or maybe cook.

Always a reason

Below they consume white meat in dark sauce off
pewter and are merry with their flat brown ale.

They are sticky and horrifying.

Their heads have no eyes.

Then this song plays and all is well………

“Caviar and cigarettes
Well versed in etiquette
Extraordinarily nice

Chorus:
She’s a Killer Queen
Gunpowder, gelatine
Dynamite with a laser beam
Guaranteed to blow your mind
Anytime ”

Do not think or talk over the solo.

Ha ha ha. Fuck me! Welcome aboard! Death can be
sticky.

And then………

“Then I saw her face, now I’m a believer
Not a trace of doubt in my mind.
I’m in love, I’m a believer!
I couldn’t leave her if I tried.”………….

Woke up and took a shower with my mouth open.

3 Responses to “Talkin ’bout my generation”

  • Latin, Espanol, Castillian; familia:

    Max, Trueblood is no anomaly he reflect the contemporary consciousness’s America. He magnified, our inability to read between the lines, and displays a common , and simply scripted desire to focus, and follow that which is still, and minute, his mind is busy poking around at feces, left in an infected colon, sending toxins out into the world. An Introspective thought process is, not required if your a virus or bacteria. Back to Michael, I’d suggest you end the rent your allowing the bloodman, he is making us very ill, literally destroying both of our heart valves. For you its the tooth, if infected you must get it treated, or the infection will travel in your blood to your heart valves. One option would be an extraction, along with an urgent need to evict Trueblood, from these premises. If ever you get the opportunity, I’d extract all the crab he’s dumped here. Hello again Max, I’d consider allowing you to my new blogs, “we rolling all around downtown Detroit, in my goulashes”. But I’d asked you for information on Australia, not help; only info. Where is the weather the most temperate, I’m going to open a business out of country, I’d like warmish climate. As for mentioning your sister wanting to do San Francisco, whats about Amsterdam. Similar dollar value, as S.F. is inflated over most of the U.S.A anyway. Nothing authentic about these made for t.v., Americans, fake smiling Humvee people, machine guns on the brain. Seriously we’re building up to World war III; its on like a backpack, we are greedy mean mutha fucka’s.

  • Trueblooded:

    Latin, Espanol, Castillian; familia
    Ah!
    Censorship.
    Yes, it’s what makes your side so despicable.
    It’s what makes you and Joe Stalin, Mao, PolPot, Uncle Ho, Piennzee, Hitler, and every disspicable leader has in common.
    Congratulations.
    You can’t handle the truth thats why you want it gone.
    Fuck you. You can get rid of me but listen to the radio pal, read the newspapers. Obamma-Nation is being outted as the racist and charlateen he is. He’s going down and Hitliary is going to win the nomination.
    Are you even here legally ameigo?
    Like all liberal scum nit wits you cannot dispute anything I say and you are unable to handle the truth which is the fact that you follow the no good, Maoist loving communist bastard, Magic negro, MFJ, A-Furry-Can ‘Merican, no good cocksucking crackhead fucking fool, Obamma-Nation.
    Like I said Fuck you. I don’t owe you a thing. Not kindness not a drink in the dessert. You’d kill me the first chance you’d get. You and your ignorant hord of “Progressive” so called thinkers. FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER, GOT IT??
    You and your ilk already get plenty from me against my will.
    Go have another food-stamp funded meal with your horde of illegal welfare swilling “familia” and and your cohorts on the tab of hard working America you lazy no good liberal left-wing fuck. Go back to Mexico and choke on another filthy totellia.
    Yeah, WWIII is coming and the first rounds are going to hit a whole lot of refies dude. How sweet it that??? Yeeehaw!!!!

    Obfuscation Echewed yet again.

  • reiyalight/ Rev. Wright:

    Reiyalight/Rev Wright We be homies! Shit trueblood, I’ve got about 20 different alias; me legal, in accordance to what law? I’m a disabled visionary artist,I am already dead, fuck head! I don’t except complacency, with this illegal government, at the fuck all. Who trained the 911 attackers,only the U.S.A!
    Nobody is censoring you; you have nothing to say;all you ever do is spray wet shit in our face. I don’t need yo disease creep! Is this your shitty kitty litter box, the world is so Grande’,unlike your mind, go and check it out, get out of your anus,get a life! In my journey I visited a little Island, Bobalo amusement park, a plastic clown statue told me “one can charm a snake but not a shitass, laying in the toilet that looks like a snake!” Your rotting shit that pretends to be a snake!

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