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True Test.

Sip the cyanide
to build up an immunity.
Sacrifice yourself
for the community.

Believe in. Believe out again.
Just like a chaos magickian.
Oscillate between faith and doubt.
Lose yourself to find yourself.

Drop down onto bleeding knees.

Because good toys obey.
Because this is the future, boy.
Because you are weak.
Because you are a fucking slave.

Drop in, break out later:
bear these bleeding knees.

So fucking insane,
too, but you’ve crawled
your way back
before, stood on your feet
and managed to settle the score,
so you’re just a veteran

summoned back
for one last tour to train
the newbies and refine
your own art,
silly fuck: and you need it.

For the true test,
it is coming.

So maintain yourself through these hypnotic hells:
remember that this is not a new experience.
It’s in the goddamned television, the virus
that is the internet. Every advertisement.
Every product placement.

It’s so fucking Hollywood.
It’s so hypnodomme.
This is training
for something more closely approximating
true, cosmic adulthood.

Know thyself.
Know thy enemy.
Hold your own.
Hold it steady.

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