In this land of one way mirrors,
and spermicidal sponges sold over the radio
with soft lilting voices
promising both spontaneity and freedom
from tiny rubbery embryos
that too eagerly blossom into troublesome adults.
In this land of Cola Wars
where fucking money is everyone's dream,
where sex is carried in metal projectiles
from one person's madness
to another one's brain.
When i consider the labyrinthine ways
of my own stupidity,
and the crazed messages that are injected daily
by way of the tumultuous senses,
i wonder that my human skull
does not catapult my body into rage more often.
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