o empire! my empire!

 

o empire! my empire! yr acid trip be almost done,
your limo bottomed on a pothole, & yr driver’s gone.
the end is nigh, you’re still high, the people are revolting
to look at cos their clothes are cheap, & yes, the faces melting;
but, oh risk! risk! risk!
oh, the internets has sd
bad trips can last forever
trapped inside a head.

o empire! my empire! the peoples rise up from –
rise up from rhizomes, grates, culverts, muck,
for you they morph & fractal – for you they camouflage,
for you they call, the shamming masses, & pretend entourages.
here empire! dear colonizer!
this country neath your head!
it is but some dream that on the map
you can see coup d’etats & death.

my empire, you don’t answer, your mouth too full up
with wines & honies, sugarcane, furs: all yr exploits.
the tributes are safe & sound; you’re coming down
from fearful trip wherein the huddled peoples won.
exult o empire & stay the course;
the LSD’s left you hungry. & instead
of insurrections, the peoples silent-covet
yr gleaming mansions & yr gleaming head

 

 

 

everything that rises must empire

 

empire’s always got a hard-on coming on
a hard-on for hotel bars & scotch in clean crystal
a hard-on for keeping people out while the jazz
pianist plays on and on and on

your friend & you snuck into the Savoy bar once
you ate bar snacks & drank gin
empire watched & you never knew. empire wanted you
to have all the daughters. empire wanted
you to mother & brood.

 

empire coachellas; empire burning mans. empire likes deserts. young girls bare-footed. hipster
appropriation of bindis. hipster appropriation of first nations. appropriations of imperialist
imaginations of peoples even.
that is some meta shit &
empire drinks that shit up in his hotel bar oasis
fingers the bar for coke crumbs

 

your friend & you never coachellaed. your friend & you never mothered. your friend & you grew
apart. people grow apart. empires stay forever. empires keep going up in that Freytag triangle
arrow way. there’s no climax. no epiphany. no need. empire owns everything.

& your friend’s ghost may escape some day. your friend’s ghost may come to haunt you.
right now, she’s empire’s. right now, she’s one of many ghosts

that is the sadness that draws you to pianos   that draws you to symphonies even
concertina bars

 

 

 

 

 

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