stream of consciousness.
if i could,
yes, i would
just stay put
at the back
of the bus.
if you must,
just don’t care
and in god trust.
get it straight.
this country
is about
greed, money
and lust.
an old machine
covered with rust.
fuck it man.
fuck it all.
fuck your job.
fucking tourette’s
got me again
in a box
with some locks,
which your heart
holds the key.
set me free
on tv
like reality
programming.
market me;
my identity
and personality.
repackage me
for the populous
and masses.
fuck it man.
fuck it all.
fuck your job.
fuck it all.
fuck it all.
06.28.11.
UP!::urban po'E.Tree(s) 
This country IS about greed- always, at heart of it, has been.
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Excellent
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For me, the first two stanzas are the most powerful and carry the strength of the poem. What loses it for me is the repeat of the word fuck. Like in real life, the word has become too commonplace and acceptable that it seems to have lost it’s impact. Your words have a raw strength and beauty and the repeated use of fuck seems to be a crutch. But then maybe it should be.
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blatantly honest and to the point…good job of communicating what you wanted to say.
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