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extracting guidance from a forgotten monologue

extracting guidance from a forgotten monologue:  
the younger siblings' perilous plight amongst covid ops and the public resource bandit  
ft lee harvey oswald

 

hear yee, hear yee
don't breathe over here
please
yeet yeet, brother  
better count
that six feet
over;
unless you'd rather  
that six feet  
under;
or perhaps
just stay  
that six feet under  
the cover of your own roof;
as
the horsemen of the
public health and safety
                     militia
implore    
lockdown  
24-36 hours a day
bordering boundaries  
of home incarceration
through passive implementation
of controlled movement  
so  
if you breathe within  
36 inches
of the bassinet you've rested your  
napping infant inside of;
it's tainted, high risk, a hazard  
to  
your  
fellow (senior) citizens-
throw it away, the garbage truck  
will  
arrive promptly
on thursday
 
the tribe has spoken,  
your infant is the weakest link; good bye
and good day
 
xoxo
with lots of love
sincerely
your best friend, always
 
the president and savior;  
mr. martial trump, the oogie boogie rump slayaaa
 
making america great again;
one economically devastating executive order at a time
 
no precautionary measure is too preemptively judged  
nor action too rash
in the fight for our freedom
to be free of
(foreign)  
terrorism;
 
we'd pummel with poise
through the most treacherous trenches, painting over pricetags
hanging from barrels of
petroleum  
with the birds of bob ross guiding
brush strokes of acrylics blended by blood  
 sustainably sourced from our citizens  
here,
from their citizens  
there,
 
anyone, anywhere, we're all  
laden with madness
and medical diagnosis
together in here
weeping into a cold bowl of
porridge
poorly warmed by the  
extending of
perceived fire and  
brimstone
reaching through the crevices of the
structure's
kentucky limestone  
foundation
secrets encased by organic materials
reinforce integrity  
that upholds
our house of
the rising
sun
gathering tattered scraps
of
names drawn from
        an illusionist's hat
crying  
out to those competitors  
drafted
into these historically revered
olympic charades
hovering clouds
purposefully casting  
a statuesque shadow
deceptive and vain
veiling  
truth  
of sought objective
misleading to
      manipulate for    
extortion of
the vulnerabilities shallowly
buried
within the core of economic struggle
 
 patriotism rooted in sacrifice
so long as  
no resourceful networth is offered at the altar
 
anything to protect the freedom,  
liberties,  
and constitutional rights
of the  
american people  
 
so long as they don't  
exercise  
their right to  
exercise
these freedoms  
-in groups of more than 10;
-going the wrong direction in Wal-Mart aisles;
-after 830pm;
-within 6 feet of your mom, a dog, the bathroom, a new box of tampons you're checking out to purchase, your social security card, or your own genitals;
-without a facemask covering at least enough of your vulnerable respiratory bubble that you'll be unidentifiable by security cameras and police after robbing the icecream truck in cardinal valley;
-inside the structure of a small business who's owners have been government-dictated to sit idly by, and observe the fruits of their dedication and hard work dissipate alongside their livelihood and stability.
 
free peoples
of
our non-spherical, flat-earth
 
the
who has condemned public breathing
spaces
as well as
engaging in intimate contact with the fourth kind
 
the w.h.o.
 
world
                           health
organization
wait,
WHO?
MIKE JONES.
Furthermore;
Dr. Jones and his indentured researchers working with the C-D-C-DEEZnutz,  
have been carefully  
analyzing,
correlating,
mapping,
these findings,
and upon final conclusion, have determined that
closing borders reduces the threat of harmful aliens
however, the atmosphere is a vulnerable
backdoor
to potentially assisting a stealth invasion
 
satellites travelling abroad, visiting vast coordinates of inherently risky territory
 
may no longer
 
stand any closer than
68900km
apart
from each other, alien life form, or our susceptible planet
 
scene two, take forty-two: entering
the age of
interrupted antenna communication trajectory
disrupted
dialogue of transmissions failing
 
technological regression dawning a new "word of mouth"
era
but mouths must speakeasy
for
a bet in roulette placed on red  
outline odds of  
1:1 probability
big brother is eavesdropping
 
"your younger siblings' lives matter"
 
a fervid proclamation
vivaciously chanted
and howled  
invoking the emancipation
absolving indoctrination
trailing sounds scatter about from  
hillside to hillside
and
as it reverberates through
the valley of the illumination of life
it shall not fear into silence
 
this proclamation, profoundly imperative in nature,  
yet found
                 unfounded  
                  absurd
parasitic  
 
a declaration mommy  
stamps  
  sealed
    shut
with the  
shape of quotation marks formed from
 the corners of her lips
 
sweet mommy dearest,
always a way to sway wayside, to make your  
escape,
narrowly, however
still unscathed
 
an absence prone
to enabling
big brother and his
daunting  
filibustering tactics,
a
calculated equation for infringing upon  
us younger siblings' time  
to assert our case
 
is that fated to be  
all we'll achieve  
here-  
left
solemnly drifting
in synchronicity  
amid the ebb and flow
of a slow
                   leak
 
in the social conditioning-
"we the people"
expelling
an abundance  
of
such concerningly  
 
         corrosive  
elements;   
 
corrosive  
when pressed flesh to flesh
with the human body
or  
corrosive  
when pressed opposition to status quo with the governing body
 
the elements
in question, put under a microscope, illuminated;
have
nearly culminated,
already
catalyzed the germination,
nested roots  
for
peeking sprouts  
slowly blossoming whispers of  
uninhibited  
thought
 
the beginning stages entail minute
disintegration  
of infrastructure,
while generating
small perforations in the chassis
 
"we the people"
fear not the frightening illusions propagated by
concealed intent
of
malice and deception;
taking a brillo pad to scrape the wrinkles from your own brain would be undue
action;
cleansing is elementary once
you've attuned the ideal
frequency
 
there is  
no
seeking shelter or refuge
there is
no
evading the impending  
destructive  
                 reconstruction
soon to assume it's revolutionary
position
 firmly stabilized and erected in the  
wake of  
staying woke
enough to wake
an unhinged
 tidal wave of unanswered questions
 
were we  
ever
boarded up in imprisonment, or  
merely shaded by,
mostly jaded by,
the overcasting authority of big brother's silhouette from the edge of  
the playground,  
an unmoving, mighty structure concealing any vitality emitted from the sun's warmth
as if we're here to party like it's
9/11/01,
big brother
portraying a towering  
recapitulation
 
jet fuel
can't produce  
vitamin d
 
no  
vitamin  
D  
says big brother
standing
 witness to transmutation of strategized new-wave desecration
 
sunshine sanctioning
interchangeably
social dick-stancing,  
d-d-d-debilitated and oppressed
by means of
constraint and duress
boasting an arsenal, stockpiled;
AR's, and threats
of unconstitutional
restraint and arrest
anxiety never looked as lovely  
in that sundress, or are you only wearing
your sunday's best,
well-polished
unrequited  
draped in designer-brand ambivalence
 
in search of
    a disciple
willing to stepforth  
and present any  
insight or
                            shred of
a detail,
to relay
the
ominous, inexplicable  
illumi-knowledge  
having
been bestowed upon  
thee
 
though one may feel compelled to  
harbor
 and safeguard
unethically classified  
information
unknowingly campaigning
a
formidable agenda
ensnared  
by our comfort and trust
brainwashed  
to willingly trade our
                                    civil  
liberty  
for the invasive implementation
 of  
           mass manipulation  
brilliantly disguised under the facade  
of
           national  
security
circa 9/11/01
 
covid-911
or covid ops
no
 wait,  
we meant,
covert
ops
in the patriot act format
only please
      double spaced, a work-cited page


 
"we the people"
demand definitive  
and forthright  
answers   
spiritually guided in seeking truth  
as to whether or not  
yee ole government,  
 
has revealed any plan  
for motion forward-
have they began to showcase
an exhibition of fluidity
in
braving the ever-so fleeting leadership position,
like guiding
the herd
dubiously trudging onward,
along the northwest passage,  
           arrival  
   upon the last great frontier
steadily afoot
wherein,  
we learn
a caravan by any other
path
would still fall prey when dysentery plauged
 
                            so
how now corona-cow
art thou
starcommander  
in chief
captain can you even read
 
we the people
demanding a potential,
or finite,
date
that they'll allow us
the freedom once more
to
unchain these iron links, cuffed together and wrapped tightly;
a savage imposition certainly
enveloping
the decaying doors of
 
our strip clubs
 
deemed non-essential in essence, but
essentially crucial
for seeding and breeding
                         while
feeding by misleading
the unapologetically
animalistic prospects
vampirical in bleeding the endangered sacred feminity
cursed clockwork of divination,
whose singsong cuckoo-cuckoos
tells tales of the witching hour
drawing near
serves the cue
for the masses;  
assembling like high water  
             following downpour  
during springtime
ready to flood the countryside
in a roaringly ambitious stampede
each  
individual
glistening with a  
starry-eyed  
eagerness ascending from their brute naiveity,
anticipation on autopilot
maneuvering the rugged concourse  
of a journey
                    lead by the lure  
                               of estrogenic
gyrations      
 
  under the full moon  
and shadow cover  
of late-night entertainment hours,
a merry band of jezebel harlots
conduct the ceremonial
 summoning  
of
pretty-tittied stripper deities;
 
expression of gratitude and vows of reciprocity
exchanged
for the manifestation
of showering abundance
blessedly binded
and
officiated by the divine
booty bouncing goddesses
through the exhibition of
                    an ancient   
make-it-raindance
 
this devilish playground,
a tactical environment
lulls its prey
by coercing a hypnotic
trance   
with the insidious melody
 of the siren's song
reeling their vessel in  
                further down the  
rabit hole
a maleficent descent
to nestling  
rock bottom
 
the belly of the beast
condemning each kill within  
                 an impenetrable  
silk cocoon
of a black widows web
 
opulent warriors of desire  
and seduction   
emerging underneath  
the
glowing moodlights
scouring their feeding grounds,  
   prowling for the perverse
               draped in
nearly  
negligible
cuts of fabric
and the enchanting aesthetic
radiated
by
supple, smooth skin
bedazzled in the lumniscence  
of  
clublights
reflecting  
from each angle  
of the
precision
 geometrical cuts
shaping
every              
swarovski  
adorning
their uniformed exposure
 
debauchery and dollar bills  
rule  
everything
around here  
a-t, a-t-m, y'all
 
targeting the unprocessed emotions
and
unfulfilling marriages  
plaguing  
and disorienting
the sanctity of such  
vulnerable,  
fragile
masculinity  
 
remember to always
drain the blood, and
drain the integrity
before beseiging the bank account
 
to pursue  
the conquest of
      the inquisitive mind
into the hands
of hustling harlots
bares with it a responsibility
to
the indemnity
          of indigity
kissthesky
Written by kissthesky
Published
Author's Note
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