The Monster Molecule by DARPAÃ "ž
by John Kendall Hawkins
.
I.
Cookie cutter monsters, mangled mango pie
for brains, are coming to your damned village with their molecule --
Evil-Anger-Hate --
to drill down into your child's brain with probiscuity
to suck the young virgin light out of their minds,
slurpy slurp the stem cells of human consciousness, yummy,
like a mosquito sucking blood and leaving behind malaria,
these black hole vampires of light leave behind the monster molecule
and from then on children are sleeper cells awaiting dark Woking
no education can hold them back, no religion, no Good walls can contain them
schools will force-feed read them Mockingbird in the morning
and that evening there's cotton candy glee at the lynching, teacher presiding
at the Strange Fruit Festival, plums dangling in the air,
blindfold pinatas sticks kids hit until they burst
and the koan guts fall out. We don't want to believe
there is such unqualified evil in the world,
witches and warlocks, creatures with abracadabra skill sets --
white voodoo boys pins and needles mafia above any rule of law --
Spanish Inquisition Catholics: Saturday cleanse, Sunday absolution, Weekday mayhem
God as a racket, boffo deus ex machina types with meaty hands.
O, it's Salem all over again! Danvers loony bin up the road.
.
There's always a minotaur looking into a mirrored maze somewhere
grooming, mooning, crooning "Singing in the Rain" like Clockwork Oranges
a maze created as "He-They" makes their way through their proofing pudding
alpha doggies with omega tail-holes in a speed circle at the mouth
like the animated Tasmanian devil, until cause becomes effect,
and Alpha connects with his own Omega tail, Big Bang!
constellated firmament up the sweet patooty,
now we all gotta pay for the doggie way, kennelheads
barking full moon mad in orgiastic ritual dances of release without joy.
Do you know where your children are tonight?
What's your doggy's name?
II.
One finds as one grows old, older and oldest
that things aren't what they have ever seemed to be
that the seeming black-and-white assurances of the Hank Williams era
no longer apply in the cusping technicolor quantum world we've entered
and that AI is already here reprogramming us
enforced by the thugs who think like machines already
to rule us in our dying days of extinction and savage us with sin
Cainites not born of Adam's Rib, forgottens
exiled from Genesis come back to finish the so-called Tempter's work
Paradise Lost
.
You see them in the Deep State
You see them fighting wars, more blood and treasure, tossed
blood and treasure squeezed from the punch clock lives of men and women,
time as money, $6 trillion dollars of time x 20 Afghan years for nothing
You see them in the elites, the Sacklers, oxycontin, new exhibits at the museum
You see them in the buffering middle class, the white picket fence smiles of entitlement
You see them in academia controlling the language of dialectical deceit
You see it in the mass psychosis that accepts a Lesser Evil system of choice
You see it in the end of the world we've warned ourselves about since The Fall
.
Cain and his raised ones are on the loose, mark the mark of
Who is Cain? The oil people. The Pentagons. The morbidly obese Bigs --
Pharma, so they can make billions off bad vaccines from spill over viruses
Agro, who make billions off GMOs and envision a world of drone honey bees
Fast Food, who see drive-through jungles relieved of rain, billions and billions made
Poultry, where it takes a tough man to make a tender chicken
Data, where math has been put to work to steal your "soul"
Russia, 100 years of fear of collectivism, used to crush unions, fair wages
Bezos, shlong for a symbol, who sees fulfillment centers on the moon, union free
.
Cainites all, humanity means nothing to them and you can see it in their eyes
Cainites, where humanity represents spenders and consumers of economic growth
fat fucks as fat farms for Big Fuckin' Fooled Ya Hoo-has
Now back to the Two Minute Hate, children:
McGovern 1972. Nader 2000. Trump 2016. Freedom 2024.
III.
Eliot said it would end maybe with a bang or whimper
Frost thought ice would be nice and would suffice
But it's looking like madness is in store, a Shock Corridor ending,
where nymphomaniacal capitalism where Marxism picks its nose
where the Stones of Venice are collapsed by the laughter of dead geranium madmen
We won't be able to cope losing our middle class lifestyles we had coming
Return to the cave with all that quantum energy bursting in us and no grids
Back to that silly kids cave wall drawings of bison as mystical animists
If your smart you'll guard your watering hole while you still can
In my end is my beginning, Eliot also wrote.