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Buried Canvas.

Fuck you, and all of this,
I just want to be

left alone so to create
something. I am
in control, so: no, you can’t take
this from me…

no, not

without inspiring
war, risking
my complacency,
this conditioned, brainwashed,

programmed docility,

with respect to handling,
believe you me —
if you trust me.

Do you trust me?

Status report:
lab monkey aggressive,

“So? Appease the pissy primate.
Pacify that silly simian.”

Drawn into their black,
almond eyes
or her vivid green ones.

Just can’t win with him.
Keeps jerking off, throwing
his own filthy shit at us.

“Kill your subjects.
Purge the disobedient.

Leave them the buried
canvas they need
to satisfy

their dark, hidden

they have their claws
if they can find
no shovel.”


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