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Andrew Delapruch Poem
s/he who will get locked away,
fried in the chair, lethally injected,
gassed, hung or shot by a firing squad,
resides right in your home town,
right in your neighborhood,
right round the corner &
without the ability to feel guilt
when s/he lies, cheats, steals, rapes,
beats or kills someone,
s/he’s considered to be a major threat
to the stability of
“western civilization.”
and yet, it is said that
most “normal” people don’t make good killers &
that those who join the military have to undergo
such “training” (brainwashing + drugs)
in order to be able to do it efficiently
without the side-effects that would come
with doing it as a civilian &
still, it is said that many soldiers aim high
or do their best not to kill,
especially if in hand to hand or
close combat,
unless they are pushed to extreme limits.
the irony is that those that our tax dollars
send all across the world to stomp on others in the name of our great
empire
(our great policeman of the world),
are those least likely to do what they are being paid to do,
while those that threaten us on a daily basis
here at home,
silently & secretly,
are the kinds of individuals who can win wars.
we humans celebrate the sociopaths
when they kill in our name
when we’re on the side of the winners &
history will be forged in such a way
as to show that what said sociopath leader did
was indeed great,
that in our time of need,
s/he killed without conscience,
s/he killed indiscriminately &
had s/he not been doing it to “them,”
s/he might have been doing it to
us.
Copyright © Andrew Delapruch | Year Posted 2012
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Andrew Delapruch Poem
absolutely nothing stops the pipeline.
it penetrates all ways of life
all borders, all villages & towns---
the pipeline kills everything in its path if it dare stand in the way
of its progress---
with black gold funneling back to the
land of the free
who eagerly seeks to waste
every last drop that is left on the globe
here,
within the borders of the US &
nowhere else,
the strongest military ever assembled
will stop at nothing to keep that pipeline
burrowing &
burrowing its way through
every possible barricade,
eliminating every question as to why or
for whom it all is to happen---
our way of life here in this
“great democracy,”
is something that you should want &
if you aren’t part of our solution
then you are part of our problem,
and if you don’t give it up to us when we come
steamrolling through your land
with our extended erect penis
(ERECTED PENIS: Bluenight Energy Partners, NuStar
Energy, Buckeye Partners, Plains All
American, Holly Energy Partners, Sunoco
Logistics Partners, Magellan Midstream
Partners, Tesoro Logistics)
& it’s big throbbing veins
(THROBBING VEINS: connecting Algeria, Egypt, Libya,
Sudan, Tunisia, Morocco, Cote d'Ivoire, Gabon, Angola,
Democratic Republic of the Congo, Chad, Cameroon, Ghana,
Nigeria, Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Zambia, South Africa,
Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Brunei, Indonesia, Malaysia,
Myanmar, Thailand, Singapore, Afghanistan, Bangladesh,
India, Myanmar, Pakistan, China, Japan, South Korea,
Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, Iran, Iraq, Israel,
Jordan, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Syria, United Arab
Emirates, Yemen, Bahrain, Lebanon, Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan,
Latvia, Lithuania, Russia, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Ukraine,
Uzbekistan, Albania, Bosnia, Herzegovina, Bulgaria, Greece,
Hungary, Romania, Serbia, Slovakia, Slovenia, FYR Macedonia,
Turkey, France, Belgium, Germany, The Netherlands, The Czech
Republic, Italy, Switzerland, Austria, Norway, Sweden, Denmark,
Georgia, Belarus, Latvia, Estonia, Spain, Portugal, United Kingdom,
Ireland, Gulf of Mexico, Canada, Mexico, Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil,
Chile, Ecuador, Peru, Uruguay, Guadeloupe, Martinique, Barbados,
Colombia, Costa Rica, Guatemala, Panama, Venezuela, Trinidad &
Tobago)
PLUNGING
THRUSTING
TWISTING
GOUGING
RIPPING
TEARING
DRILLING
we will rape your land &
leave you in our wake---
the pipeline matters
you do not---
go ahead people now,
say it aloud so the
rapists can hear us...
THE PIPELINE IS ALL THAT MATTERS
we do not.
Copyright © Andrew Delapruch | Year Posted 2011
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Andrew Delapruch Poem
one night i dreamt i was surfing in cyberspace &
many images flickered in Adobe Flash
with every movement made, every keystroke &
slide of the mouse to & fro,
i hadn’t a clue (in real time), but i knew
that there were centillions of digital footsteps
being made with every moment
leaving their print upon the world within the screen
(still outside my own physical self)---
while my own history could partially be brought up
manually on my PC, i knew that
every phone call, every movie watched & every second
spent on the web,
had been recorded somewhere,
being held for an indeterminate amount of time &
unlike those nutjobs who say they had a
“near death experience” &
their lives flashed before their eyes,
i myself was fairly certain that
i would never come in complete contact with
this shadow of online presence.
this, however, did not bother me,
because whether my life was dragging down deep in
the gutter or
flying up in the air by the seat of its pants,
i was grounded in the cooling light of backlit LED pixels,
which would be with me until my dying day
(or until i became one with them in the future).
and there was no conversation with my PC,
because it was not a capable artificial intelligence
(as of yet) & therefore it had to abide my own human
error
(alas, PC, i pity thee) &
unlike the fictional “lord” of those religious idiots out there
walking in the sand,
it did not “speak to me” when i was down on my knees
squinting to myself with hands clasped
(um, for i wasn’t),
conversating inside my own head
hoping for answers to questions
to magically arise from my own fragmented,
severely delusional &
quite obviously
bat*****
mad
psyche.
no, there was no made up excuse
for which this human had to look to
in order to alleviate responsibility for those things
that are the most absolutely horrible
which all of us humans have done to each other,
the world around us &
to ourselves,
but rather
only quality time spent
between myself & my computer,
which had evolved from a less impressive model to its
current state,
but which would be outdated in a few years &
get scrapped for a better one,
until its own superiority
surpassed my own &
i needed to become one with it---
then, there would be no
digital footprints at all,
for they’d all be
within.
Copyright © Andrew Delapruch | Year Posted 2012
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