Notebook Sickness

Down a couple of shots and beers 
fear liquidates my tears 
what am I doing here? 
should I be armed to the teeth, warfare

dreams remove evidence of elements 
that protected youthful resemblance

reminisce about the decade of decadents

sick of riding the bench 

next to the stench of death 
this is my last hit, short of breath 
paranoia extorts cops hunting for sport 
another pull off the Newport 
societies reflection is fact that doom implores 
what you think the movements for? 
distort dissection of past transgressions

cap aggression Smith and Wesson 
packed with lessons 
genocide always intended 
swept under the rug no mention 
unless levied as leverage 
jettison political medicine 
devastation, end game declaration 
final move cultural castration


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