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The Meditation of a Cock
by Jose Gouveia


sitting beyond the parameters of reality contemplating death

in a zone all to


(i've heard there's a comfort there)

and meditating life

(and other ugly things)

beauty approaches

and i realize it must be death

disguising itself


as a solution to the woes of my soul

as a solution

to the ways of the world

as a solution anything at all...


but the meditation continues

as life goes on and death stays in motion

and Truth

lay still for the rapist Lie

to take the F outta Life


in the shadows the cock crows

yearning for the misery of this nightmare to end

for new songs to be written as they always are

yet finally to be sung as they never are

as they may never be

with the moon hiding behind clenching clouds

suffocating her shame

so that gallow birds may continue

in their haunting and wanting ways


this is not the dawning of the age of aquarius

that fish flapped her last gasp generations ago

when the world was still new and young

full of vigor and fight

back when anger at what was

fueled the fire that burned the log of change

status quo gone up in smoke


acceptance notwithstanding

as the answer to all my problems today

as big books written on spirituality preach


no, here,

in this dream state

reality still dictates



is eminent domain


Your Highness Hatred

knows no words

only actions

(someone told him it was the way to speaking louder)

He does not carry a big stick

but bombs and germs

(hasn't taken a bath since the dawning of Time)

gives orders thru his eyes

the same look everytime


there is no escape, no escapism...


out here in the kingdom formerly known as Heaven

God is dead

the only Truth left to be told

and Satan died too

(those virus' be nasty)

but Hell hath been expanded

with her own fury

by left over Imperialists

so right in their ways

living an old world order

in the name of manifest destiny

and self-determination for all states...


in this last dream state left to my wits

i cry out one last song of hope

refusing to believe it any good

but keep the body in motion nonetheless

or surely i'll keep on dying more and more...



it was in a void

or maybe

it was from our












from Love









                                                                          a                       waaaaaaaaaaay

          from Love

or our avoidance of it

that brought us here

to destitution






...perhaps it was Love itself that turned on the world

leaving us to die in as big a bang

as fundamentalist theories tell us we began

ending in as equal an energy as created in


or maybe it just seems that way

in a dream


but maybe the world will never end

perhaps it never got started at all

maybe this is just the beginning now

and in the beginning there was...




            ...glowing over all the world

with the intensity of a supernova

as the cock offers one last eternal screech

and an explosive rude awakening

burns raw Truth out from the core

rebirth purges the planet

and sends her parasites into orbit...


...leaving the fittest to survive

in a land where only fits survive...


or maybe

this dream

this nightmare

trudging along in my meditations

is just the Mona Lisa


with no smile


on display

for all to see

and enjoy


her beauty.




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