Welcome to the wood-chipper, mother-fucker … ded to ZDR


Take your mayor w you
Your pimps 
Your whores
Your professors 
Your baseball scores 

Welcome to the millennial woodchipper
Just a different Asia 
Just a different era
Same bodies just different names
Same graves just different compass directions
Different deaths w the same azimuth 
The tritium
The Leviathan
The savior 
The foot-ball
The quicktime-march
Same breath, different azimuth
Declination magnetic
Zone transparent 
Grid north, not your magnetic 
1975 your quaint topple was cute, French, fucked
2021 our topple our train-wreck our kite-runner death
Casting call in the city, repeat
Fuck them Kabuli campesinos
Their acres of ain’t-nothing 
Their diesel deaths, their goats sacrifice 
The mysteries, the mines, the wobble, the back the forth, the your-guess, good-as-mine
Pavement, you say,
You cry
You want, 
Refuse to pay
Where we lack the streets, the lights, the fluorescent illumination
We wrap ourselves in fuses and Det-cord
McGyver w the wire, with tin snips, the needle-nose plier
An endless stream of filth
Yellow-corned w Koranic holy words 
One nation under electrical-tape
We consecrate w duct tape
Your be pallets of damnation
So fuck your country roads
Your opium-eater Sharia sharecroppers 
Pay the man his money 
Or a seven-six-two to the pretty-boy-child
Our revolution will be urbanized 
Your shame will not be euthanized
For we are your graveyard, empire-digger
Impure to the bitter end
Where smack won’t relieve the after-taste 
and tombstones will serve up teacups of human waste
We’ll chase you to the bones of your planes that we bleached on our plains
that we crushed w our trains
mashed like opium into our waterless drains 
Finish you off that fourth mile inside the airport gates while you reach for your oxygen masks and we light you up, Marlboro Man
Aleikum salam, 
Salam aleikum

The mortar, the pestle

Replicate to mutate

So open your arms
Welcome in the campesinos
Greet them w
“Welcome to the woodchipper”
The funnel, the flag, the A the K, the M the 4, the apostate Carbine
“Prepare to live your maggot life, for Inshallah”
Muhammad called forth the maggots 
And you, Herati, you Kandahari
You shall fit the bill
And glory to god in the highest 
And shame to the opium-eaters 
Their godless song & dance
We magnify their shame
The cameras indict their name
“Allahu, mother-fuckers”
Fall off the roof
Fall off the skid
The grip, the loss
The chainsaw 
The father, the toss, the holy unwashed kid
Hosannah their shame to the highest 
This land is our land
These grains of sand our language
Admit that you’ve been shown fear, the door
The back of our hand
Say goodnight, say Inshallah
Shut the schoolroom stockyard doors
With the girls behind the grates
Rock to remember, to stay yourself awake
Taste your salt-lick spirits 

Say not another word 

say something nice ... or not

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