PORNOGRAPHY

I have no Art
only madness
but sometimes
that sells as well

I’m scared
of intimacy
love,
softness,
loneliness,
myself,
you

Especially, you
and all the rest of
you

I’ve been misunderstood
my entire life
I want to set things right
before I die
(alone, by myself, without you)

Look around sometime
at the 7-11’s on every block
The McDonalds with their billion and billions sold

Is this the world we wanted?

Who are these sadistic monsters
that claim they are speaking for us?
Who are these people that could possibly
be happy and proud with what we’ve created?

The Western world has become
a cruel and stupid joke

What happen to integrity, ethics
honor?
We are seen as murdering whores
in the eyes of the world

I see nothing...
with any social redeeming value here
Maybe, it’s all become pornography

But...
I have only my madness
My thoughts are as archaic and insipid
as an 8-bit Nintendo machine

If it all wasn’t so sad
It would almost be funny

Why is anyone even reading this poem?
Probably, because I titled it, PORNOGRAPHY