Baited Hooks

black cabs for a music gimick,
hi-jacked urbania hipped out
with the corporate gimick –
i can’t tell if it’s a fight back
or fight with
cause i’m kicked in the head
by the black spot shoe
the same as I am
the Pele Brazil Puma.
I can’t tell – that’s the problem;
am I fighting against the system
or am I fighting beside the system;
i’ll chew off my own god damned hand
if I don’t know what it’s attached to!
Can’t anyone fucking see
the oblivon that brings Oblivion?
I hate them.
I hate their style, their feel
I hate their eyes and makeup
I hate their shoes and gadgets
and cars and trucks and boats
and seabeasts and lamps and
fans keyboards cheeseboards
dressers women plastics men
children order places looks
I    f u c k i n g    h a t e
them:
and in all that hate comes the devil,
peering through my soft eyes
and watching their dilation
when he hits on the things
that make fish bite dead hooks,
and the sounds
and smells and feels
and memories …. all dead hooks
and I hate them (ferociously)
but that baited hook I Must bite.