Alienation #6

At the high end shopping facility
Everything presents as a threat
The opulence surrounding

The mannequins
Grey menace

The Range Rovers harsh
Their halogens upon a blinded world

Footsteps which
Bear the weight
Of state violence

Fingers which know the touch
Of 911 dials
Antifa paranoias
Those who smile and wave to cops

Now we know who they’re willing
To slaughter
In untold number
To avoid the slightest inconvenience

Althusser Dancing on the Head of a Pin [poem]

A communist philosopher storms into
A psychoanalyst’s conference…
Have you heard this one?
He storms in
Claiming divine right
And claims it is
The analysand
Not the psychoanalyst
Who is the proletarian –
The worker –
Of psychoanalysis
He says
The brain is a factory
And we its workers
And it’s the psychoanalyst
Who is the boss
He says we must democratize
The process
He says
The workers of the world
Must own the means of cognition

Althusser looks to Lacan
Expecting the latter to agree.
He says nothing.
Althusser is rushed out of the building.

Hope is a Human Frailty

Hope is a Human Frailty

Hope is a human frailty
which dies in the belly of pragmatism
Pragmatism says:
That which has not been done cannot be done

but hope knows better

Hope knows pragmatism to be a lumbering colossus
brittle with reality’s plaster cast

Hope knows not to be humble in future’s blinding gaze
Hope knows to demand more from reality

Because Hope is the glue
which binds possibility to fruition

Hope is the glue
which bind possibility to fruition

all of pragmatism’s fumblings have no answer for it. And we’re all the better for leaving the colossus in the dust.


When you were born everything was already here and they said, “this is the way things are.”

When you saw things were broken and harming 80% of everybody, they said, “This is the way things are. There is nothing else.”

Then you studied history and you saw that things used to be completely different than they are now and you said “This means things could be different than they are now!”

And they said “This is the way things are. History is dead. And if you try to change it, we’ll fucking murder you.”

So a deep anger hardened in your chest and you called it Resolve. And you began to meet other people who felt the same. And together you made plans for something better.


People are eating trash right now.
You should eat trash.
It makes you stronger
makes you bear hardship with aplomb
makes your hands and heart
grow rhinoceros hide.
Eating trash makes you a brilliant kind of monster.

At my work there’s a lock on the dumpster.
The combination is 8800
in case you want to eat Italian food trash.

My bosses lock up the trash
because they don’t want you to be strong–
because if you’re strong 
you’ll take back the world.

They like owning the world.
They like telling people what to do.
They want you to conform to their temporal framework
and eat food before it passes into the designation of trash.

Their yuppie constitutions are too soft
from years of eating gourmet food before it’s trash.
They can’t handle it.
They can’t get strong.
They can only lock the dumpster
which has the combination 8800.