LOAD AIM FIRE—

CALL OF THE WILD

Needle in the belly, dried blood in the veins

inject anger, let it bloat you in the burning sun.

You rage as indifference turns the pages not read,

paper sheets hooded in ignorance stared at

combinations of letters making words you do not understand,

seen but not read; ignorance does not allow new information.

It’s all says the same fucking thing

except one used a dictionary

and the other a thesaurus,

load aim fire, load aim fire, load aim fire—die.

Societies form judgments

depending on which portion of the page

you’re name appears on.

The stories change but the lines that go up the nose

or the needle feeding the rains falling

still are the same as piss in your head

or dehydrated powder in your veins

never change while you sit waiting,

waiting your turn for the juice

spoon cooked or bottle fed,

everything that is wet dehydrates

you are no different,

the rage takes over,

danger becomes a hydrating ally.

Even the old go insane. load aim fire, load aim fire, load aim fire—die

Have no fears you will not miss anything especially your turn

you’re signed up the day you’re born,

permanently signed in when that numbered card is tattooed on your brain.

Enlist in the war on drugs, on class, on wealth, on poverty, on everything

you do not understand unless you’re told to not understand,

for your own good.

Do your dose daily, load aim fire, load aim fire, load aim fire—die.

Every junkie looks for a pass, a smoke, a fag, a cigarette

I don’t hesitate to take the last half buck in their pocket for the loosey

it’s the only tax free anything I’ll ever see as I wander the streets

and roam jungles looking for a place to earn a living

while finding out that no matter what is paid for

it’s not living,

it’s prostitution.

Sell your soul and time

let them put their filthy erecting wetness

anywhere as long as it hydrates the powder in your veins  

anywhere they want as long as you’re earning; so is your master.

And you without stomach for protest, only bitching about “it’

just lay on your belly and work;

until you’re too old to live and too young to die easily

and to loose to give them anymore pleasure in your pain.

load aim fire, load aim fire, load aim fire—die.

You have life but living died a long time ago

Living died when you learned to leave the herd,

become a target for your obstinance

born of those dying all around you,

food for them who rule the law.

load aim fire, load aim fire, load aim fire—die.

Every junky has a nodding dream and every dream’s

a nod to reality that never catches up with the truth.

 Load aim fire, load aim fire, load aim fire—die.

The barrel goes under your chin.

© M Durfee

19/28/13

Woot woot my computer shit the bed. None of my computer nerd associates would take the time to assemble a new one and transfer old info off the old C Drive. Woot Woot they missed out on the $300 I paid in labor I paid a stranger to have one built to my spec. Yes i would have paid them the same i never expect anything for free.