A Short Story In Verse (War, Am i To Blame?):

Life in the aftermath
Of that final drunken kiss
Words echo, resonate hunt hunt
For a meaning that cannot be found

The twin cities of Babylon divided
By a western ocean
And all that acid rain of talk talk
Blind construction of the word world

They/We are at war

An empty cinema
Girl in the ticket booth gives me a hard on
Purloined whiskey breath
A pain i can't quite identify
The show is over We/They/We could be next

Towers of infinity
Spectral palaces of commerce shining in the dawn
Come crashing to the ground
The millennium baby
Neon bulb head on a flickering wall of sound
Between hysterical/hypnotic talk of:
"Anthrax, Anthrax is the virus for me!"

Back to the street
I find it laughable my head has not exploded
Ducking for cigarette butts
In the unreal glow of the station

The world is a city
In varying degrees of emptiness
The emptiness breeds and grows in everyone
Look to the skies see her reflection
A star stars shooting stars blanketted
Hidden by the silver blaze below
Searchlights and helicopters
C.C.T.V. the all seeing eye of a god
Turned against us
Perched on the edge of genocidal bordom
The show is over the screen has turned
Completely black
We could be next

It's like someone came up behind me
And shuffled a deck of cards in my head
I can walk a straight line but the movie's going backwards
And it's going so slow that it almost (though not quite) seems real

O for a dawn
O for a blank page

I am my own and only enemy
In fear of a second deluge

Strange in its way
You find happiness only after
All this bullshit philosophy has been silenced...