Ready for the rollout. Tanks on every street. Snipers atop every building. Skyscraping bullets unleashed in a militarized theater of war. Occupied brainstems. Parasite in the blood. Psychologically based, trauma induced, hypnotic trance. Categorized demolition of old theory propaganda. Irreconcilable differences of opinion go nowhere fast down a one-way street. Ears clogged. Waxed over canals of disinformation. Vibration pollution. Cell phone tower broadcasted belligerence. Presidential decrees sent via text message disturbances. We interrupt your day with a war-mongering warning from the dictator. White House monstrosity. Black soul of darkness. Poison the hearts of the young. Get them early while in the cradle and ride them like mules all the way to the grave. Such a shame. Full of guilt. Pride falls. Cancerous coalition of a nihilistic death cult pushes an agenda of complete nonsense down the throat of an apathetic species in decline. Open wide. Take your medicine. Big sip, buddy boy. Urging and pushing forward an entire generation of lemmings toward the edge of a cliff. Topple over. Splatter in the abyss. Hit or miss. Catastrophic singsong daydream illusions.

Great glorious grimy gobs of green gooey gunk in the gutter. Suck the rotten gangrene greedy junk from out the veins of an intoxicated junkie. Pucker up, butter cup. Batten down the hatches. Draw the curtains low. Hide out in the corner. Shriveled up and steadily fading into the long dark oblivion. Sweet salvation whispers little lies into the wind. Brutal baptism in the fire of grace. Blistering boils upon the skin. Needle penetration theory. Deep into the mainframe. Jugular popcorn massacre. Genitalia plastered against the canvass in bloody ketchup obfuscation. Syringe saddles up and stabs the soft scaly scam artist in the neck. A little taste of adrenaline. A faulted line starts to quake. All disruption brought to you by the drug war mafia kingpin crime lord.

Painting by Zdzisław Beksinski who was best known as a painter but he was also a photographer, illustrator, sculptor and graphic designer.

Painting by Zdzisław Beksinski who was best known as a painter but he was also a photographer, illustrator, sculptor and graphic designer


Disarm the populace. Give the power to the street gangs. Urbanized shit slums. Brutality in a nutshell. Illuminati power grab. All hail the Big State. Bow down to the Beast. What’s it going to give us now? What fruits does this tree bear? Subsidized corporate pollution. Handouts for the welfare rubes. Hand jobs in the back of the taxi. Sleazy arms race in a raggedy dress. Cum stained curmudgeon codgers use the backdoor exit. Rats flee the scene. Prostitution ring run by the cops. Narcotics agent snorting cocaine in the seedy bathroom. Promenading along the red carpet like a strung out peacock with a borderline personality disorder. Narcissistic pantywaist tightrope bullshit manufactured by the Hollywood riffraff machine of madness. Bright flashy materialism rears its god awful, ugly face. Warts and all. Squeeze the puss out. Celebrity pop culture idol worship mentality of the geek squad. Get a little whiff of the foul stench. Over the hills and through the woods and down into the gutter where the sadomasochistic rat king dwells. Lording over the slaves with an iron fist. Rake in the cash. Scheme all day using the sleazy system designed as a pyramid ponzi fiat failure. Fuck the crowd over come nightfall. Club into the early hours of the morning. Ecstasy in the neon fading light. Sleep like a baby on steroids. Dying to reach hormonal balance.

One more kick to the backside. One more punch in the temple. One more drag-it-out brawl in the alleyway. One more frantic fiend itching for a final fix. One more lab rat soldier shot up with a vaccine cocktail and sent off to die in the desert from the ramifications of huffing depleted uranium. One more mutated baby in the nuclear fields. One more private contracting bid sold to the crony corporation in the catbird seat. One more gas guzzling Goliath gaming the government. One more plane dumping poison on the fields. One more big bomb to satisfy the war urge of the psychopaths. One more despot licking their lips as the broken sky burns. One more fever sore herpes outbreak for the insane royalist inbred fascist. One more poor sap sold into the private prison system for having a joint in their pocket. One more banker getting away with derivative induced murder. One more extortion practiced on the public to fleece the herd. One more black sheep going bonkers about the bailout. One more tie-dyed T-shirt protest in the fenced off free speech zone. One more amendment flushed down the drain. One more sex addict heading to the bunny ranch. One more trip down the rabbit hole. One more adventure in wonderland. One more microscopic bacterial infection to plague the nation. One more red level terror alert. One more scare tactic by the department of organized crime. One more market rigged by the financial terrorists. One more death by democide in the century of government run amok. One more good intentioned Marxist stooge kept in the dark and sold down the river. One more fairytale utopia biting the dust. One more desert mirage flat lining in the Middle East. One more denial by the collectivists with their heads up their asses. One more radical change to the sensationalized idea of hope. One more lesson with which to learn how to cope. One more drug deal gone sour. One more tick tock till the midnight hour. One more shoe that doesn’t fit quite right. One more starving child in the Sahara. One more inoculation that causes paralysis. One more philanthropist tooting his own horn. One more politician stuffing his back pocket with a fat wad of bills. One more mad dash to the bank to withdraw cash before the final crash ultimately collapses the whole fraudulent system. One more shovel full of dirt before dropping the casket into the cold earth. One more dance upon the grave of tyrants. One more prayer to the Lord for resolution. One more Happy Hour Hallelujah sung by the choir. One more evolution before the Apocalyptic Revelation. One more Renaissance Revolution coming over the horizon. One more New Dawn rising. One more Phoenix emerging from the ash. One more jackpot pouring out from the slots. One more bet placed on the adaptive qualities of the New Breed. One more flight of fancy before the big sleep. One more night of rest before the real work begins. One more blessed soul says Amen.
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Scott Thomas Outlar hosts 17Numa.wordpress.com where links to his published poetry, fiction, essays, interviews, reviews, and books can be found. He is a Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize nominee. His books include: Songs of a Dissident (Transcendent Zero Press, 2015), Chaos Songs (Weasel Press, 2016), and Happy Hour Hallelujah (CTU Publishing, 2016).
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Illustration: Zdzislaw Beksinski (painting)
07.06.2016

SCOTT THOMAS OUTLAR “Daydreaming Dystopia”
14 votes, 5.00 avg. rating (99% score)
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