Pilgrims
The world is inside out and the new national anthem is: all is fair game.
I watched the kids as they made their pilgrimage followed by their parents, through a merry square hill, not even 2 foot wide but still fits a million at a time.
At the empty malls, the walls speak with each other, while the kids make seances with one another, stroking their ego, making attempts at holy communion.
“Through the network! The holy network! Oh for the love of me, myself, and all that is sacred!” The kids whispered as they commune with the virgin whore of Babylon dressed in cuffs and chains in the form of Asian men and women.
The devil walks on America, but in the rest of the world, he dances.
And somebody once told me to just hurry up and end it all, but how am I supposed to do that if I don’t know when it started? A comedy a hundred years in the making, or maybe it was made up in a scene somewhere a thousand years before.
The world’s a stage, and here’s a knife so do your best to survive it, or you can just use it on yourself and just be done with it!
And the parents! Oh how can I forget about the parents, who made their pilgrimage spewing acid through their screens. Who watched married couples with successful lives in remembrance of their failed ones.
Who left their kids to make contact with extra terrestrials on their own. And when the phone called it just rang and rang and rang, but nobody’s home enough to hear it.
And then there’s us, the ones who did not even need to go on a pilgrimage, us who were born in the promised land. The illegitimate bastard child of history raised to be forgotten.
Us who engaged in fornication, and mass murder, sick with endless addictions saying “come and see parents! come and see! the beast is already well and alive within me!”
Us who never stood a chance to begin with, who were raised by pioneers who didn’t even understand the new world. Believing it to be a mythical place to raise their children.
Didn’t even thought that the land made their children monsters, in their heads going “Please, please, please, acknowledge me!” begging for a piece of property in history, while the roofs over their heads grew distant and distant.
The rest of us, who just drank and drank, and smoked and smoked, pumping endless chemicals into our torsos screaming Higher! Higher!
Can we get much higher?
