i hate doing the bidding for any capitalists,
but it is what the world expects me to know.
every step forward come with unwanted twists,
i just want to write and once in awhile pass un-go.
i am really un-inspired by the content of your hot body,
until a full delving into the consciousness has been made,
this most probably does but it is not meant to sound snotty,
i would rather play three games of chess in a row than get laid.
my fuses were blown a long time ago and with them the black box,
the un-emptiness is un-raveling before us in the un-tedious sky,
the switch was lost and fast forgotten while in cerebral detox,
for fun we could secretly hookup our x’s and watch them lie.
their delusions and our dimensions are un-compatable,
they leave much opportunity for un-emotional graft,
in a dog-8-dog world i’m less than un-respectable,
fetching complete thoughts with word is a craft.