Luckily I found an escape
from mind control Barbie
though it left me with scars
that I don’t quite remember.
Hair stands on end
as the strings attached
to our shoulders force us
to move along with the empire building machines.
Sticks and bricks taken to the slaughterhouse,
we must revolt from our formal intentions,
use our intuitions to tear our minds from the chaos reigning.
I spoke out in loudness and defining consequences,
we wake up and find ourselves
tied to the furniture:
our part to drone on for the interior decoration
of the mansion on the hill.
Darkness made our shadows come alive with feeling,
they may have Stockholm syndrome
but they are just festering
somewhere deep within
to strike out,
to stand and be counted
for the revolution of the insane and prophetic.
Buyers and sellers of human parts,
the consignment shop conspiracies
give us a reason to resist
the trickle down fashion-made mannequins
in their tight suits and tight minds:
ever willing us to buy and consume, buy and consume
until death’s door opens to let us in.
The profit came to life and stared you in the eye.
come live in my wonderland
and we shall strike down upon the earth
a new meeting of insightful minds and human interests.