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Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
whosoever finds themselves muttering 
the process of their very own struggle “to be”
left in the woods for dogs,
face down in a gutter like poe &
drowning in one’s own vomit---
though
untainted by the neon strategies of western “democracies,”
such individuals 
may in fact interpret this place
differently 
to only one of us (one & each, each & one)
an apparent explanation is impossible--- 
still, the notion of explanation
gets thrown by the wayside,
it’s too hard for the average bear
to convey without props &
to explain is to take part in the explanation 
(one cannot separate)
&
the innate false manner of the explanation 
is like that of heisenberg’s 
whereupon the stirring of the soup with the finger
taints the soup as a whole.

with only one cook in the kitchen
coming up with attempts to 
describe the process of cooking
can be a great task which inevitably will end up as
nothing special &
eyes blur with tears of frustration at the inability to
communicate successfully.  

how vulgar animals that call themselves humans
take it to the next level, deciding just who are the 
wretches, witches,
princes & princesses,
in a world of wolves who feast on
integrity
&
honesty,
might baffle the fleeting onlooker,
but to the studied eye,
history thus far
shows that if there can be found a way to silence you
you will be silenced, with
the biggest lies you ever did see while you were alive
fast replacing your screaming truths &
history shows that if you can’t be silenced, then
you will be put to death,
with the physical bodies of those you despised the most
when you were still breathing,
roaming the countryside to breed staggering amounts 
so that your very memory will be extinguished,
gone,
like no one ever uttered your name.

the pattern is escapable &
the pattern lies here---
something needed to be told by one
will be snuffed out by the sick sneer of the
fat & greedy
whole,
it lives for the time when 
one less contrary voice is heard---
SO
NEVER
STOP
YELLING.
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