THE RUNNING MAN (originally from Fetishist 4 the Dickensian, 2012) I am the running man running faster than I can. It's getting kinda hectic. No need to show off my hologram. Too much for your attention span. It's getting kinda hectic. I'm running a 4.34 right here behind my face. I'm running a 4.34 towards another state. Assume I dance inside my lavish pentagram. . .

DESTROYED BY BUSINESS (from Destroyed by Business, 2015) D-E-S-T-R-O-Y-E-D Destroyed by business It's not personal; it's just business It's like doing something Then writing it down just so it can get crossed off the list. Destroyed by business It's not personal; it's just business.

SEIZE THEM (from These Are the Plutocrats, 2013) Guards, seize them, for that what they've done. I will pick apart their loved ones' lives, but bring them to me first, unbroken and conscious. You deploy some insect drones; you know where to send them. Notify the senator. There's gonna be some corpses. Get your education on. And then I'm gonna buy another island . . . because I love my wife. CH: And you know Timbaland's gonna be playing at the gala. So many helicopters gotta land nearby the stage somehow. We will be armed to the teeth, and the landing pad's fortified. No strays get away, they will be chased down by dogs. Fetch me my Presidential Medal and a chalice full of beaujolais, and get me my general because I demand an update. I told my guards to seize them, unbroken and conscious. Hack into the histories of their IP addresses, insert some instances, tip a neighbor off, because I want answers before I leave at five. Because then I'm gonna buy another island . . . CH: And you know Timbaland's gonna be playing at the gala. And all who attend will surely keep their eyes on the servants. You poor people all look the same to me; don't care what color you are. You look like someone we're gonna arrest on TV. We have the Senate, we have the banks, an invading force of millions of Iraqis and Indonesians, immaculately trained, twice as brutal and ten times as cheap. So you tell my guards to seize them. I got places to be. I'm thinking like Caligula right now.

THEY WILL INVADE (from Border War, 2014) They never speak around me like statues, but moving Become flesh and blunt words Once I'm done catching glimpse of them Do they break their cover? They will invade . . . A lot of them are already here . . . At gun clubs and chat rooms and sites on the dark web They plan things; I know it I'll lurk if I feel safe Still reading terrible things That should be from another country With a terrible past They say they only need 3% They will invade A lot of them are already here And we just don't know who they are yet Or some of us know someone maybe They could be next door or across the street Polishing their guns and feeling their notches Or imagining what it'll feel like To carve in their first of many notches The enemy can be anywhere Anywhere in a matter of hours Without grenades, without grenades And landmines in the front yard And underneath the back deck: A line of heads on spikes It's insane to be unarmed, my darling It's insane to be unarmed, my darling Yet here we are unarmed . . .

LEAD ASHTRAY (from The Coup de Grâce, 2016) lyrics by Violet Payne Once there was a girl. Once there was a cure. Once there was a dream, if only she could sleep. Once there was a man. Once there was a plan. Once there was a way, if only for a day. If only I was someone else. If only time was left unfelt. If everything was shades of gray, maybe I could fade away. If only I would not look back. If only sight would turn to black. If everything would fade away, once upon a time led astray. Once there was a girl who hoped to find a cure. She wished upon a dream. If only she could sleep.

HEAD ON A SWIVEL (original version from Fetishist 4 the Dickensian, 2012) Any moment now . . . disappearing. I'll be one of the ones that disappears. Clampdowns live-tweeted from 50 or so separate vantage points. I file that away. You can understand the density of the mirrors with their polyglot temperatures in the middle of Hell. A blurred impression of an ilk could get you thrown into the path of a thresher. If they can chomp through titanium, they surely can chomp through you too. I can't presume this new monsoon season ringing between our ears isn't entirely something else. I guess we're too in tune with too many things that go vroom vroom. Any moment now . . . disappearing. I'll be one of the ones that disappears. I did not exist in the minds of the solipsists exhaling the nature of the guillotine. I'm thinking your morals might be just like a wizard sleeve: the image of totality's impossible. I can't presume this new monsoon season ringing between our ears isn't entirely something else. I guess we're too in tune with too many things that go vroom vroom. Maybe like back in the day with Pinochet, or just like a snowflake that's melted away. Keep your head on a swivel and your eyes peeled. Keep your eyes peeled and your head on a swivel. Disappear. Any moment now . . . disappearing. I'll be one of the ones that disappears.

The Nice Way Pt1 (from The Nice Way, 2014) Pin some unsolved capital crime on her; You tell me which one. I'll take care of recording her confession. We'll do it now, save it for later. Come on, you owe me one. Hell, blame her for the oceans rising. The courts go secret next week. Look at me; I want to do this the nice way. It's what she wants This is what she wants For if she loses her mind If she loses her mind She is fine now, and she will be fine for time to come. That's why it's critical now that we get her confession. She's totally game, and she guarantees something Oscar-worthy. I understand your apprehension; rules are rules. [Why won't the churches give us this one thing?] I swear sometimes the stench of the 20th Century is so thick in here. That's why we need to charge her with a capital crime. It's what she wants This is what she wants For if she loses her mind If she loses her mind So what do you say? You are silent. It makes me think I'm confused about something I'm not And I don't like that . . .

BABY DRAGONS (from Border War, 2014) Baby dragons spewing flames. Baby dragons swirl. Makes the realm such a cooler place. Baby dragons hover above that drag queen's shoulders for this week's challenge. That's baby dragons, Ru. Baby dragons not yet beast enough to convey the raw power that they will wield. baby dragons. Those 2 baby dragons there travel the arid land with the arid queen; they nearly starve to death but they live! they live! on my TV. Baby dragons smelt with her brother's head. Baby dragons with my honey on the brick. Baby dragons with my honey on the brick: she makes up a theme song with dance moves to the beginning of the guitar riff of Cream's "Sunshine of Your Love." Baby dragons coupled with her real true pure joy. Baby dragons coupled with her real true pure joy.

IN ORDER TO ASCEND (from The Coup de Grace, 2016) Anytime now. Maybe right now. Anytime now. Maybe right now. Anytime now. Maybe right now. How about now? Anytime now. Maybe right now . . .

FETISHIST 4 THE DICKENSIAN (from Fetishist 4 the Dickensian, 2012) I can shoot through the loopholes, I daresay, better than anyone. You best leave this neck of the woods to us. Faster than the speed of gasoline, it will seem like an alien poison; you've all had some. Fetishist 4 the Dickensian, it's unstoppable what I've got going on here. The cosmos shellacs itself in celestial light, and their dreams, they channel mine. Enter the magma. I will wield technologies that can do what now cannot be done. Puny drones, you can't touch this. Do I stutter? Fetishist 4 the Dickensian, it's unstoppable what I've got going on here. She would look hot guiding an oxcart with stringy hair, answers to “you, there.” She would look hot scrubbing the wash, tears in her frock, with dirty hair. Fetishist 4 the Dickensian . . .

MIND PALPITATIONS YEAH (from Border War, 2014) Can't control the thoughts when I think it / My heart starts to beat in triplets Can't even begin to predict it / Can't even begin to predict it Believe me - not for you / Believe me - not for you Can't control the thoughts when I think it / My heart starts to beat in triplets Can't even begin to predict it / Can't even begin to predict it Believe me - not for you / Believe me - not for you I think my organs sweat and shoot out heat No skin should ever burn like this The neurotransmitter battalions Bash battering rams and colossal Those neurotransmitters that have no fucking clue Are riding hamster wheels and they know it Striving at wind with very real battering rams It's verboten to make point of that / During this war - God help me During this war - God help me I hate when I remember some of the things they say I hate when I remember some of the things they say Eye twitches – twitching eye / Eye twitches – twitching eye Can't control the thoughts when I think it / My heart starts to beat in triplets Can't even begin to predict it / Can't even begin to predict it Believe me - not for you / Believe me - not for you I think my organs sweat and shoot out heat No skin should ever burn like this The neurotransmitter battalions Bash battering rams and colossal I have a fever when I have your normal temperature It's like a Viet Cong re-enactment over here I have a fever when I have your normal temperature It's like a Viet Cong re-enactment over here Look at my eyes – what do they do? No don't look at my eyes / No don't look at my eyes Mind palpitations yeah – mind palpitations yeah Can't control the thoughts when I think it / My heart starts to beat in triplets Can't even begin to predict it / Can't even begin to predict it Believe me – not for you

A RARE EARTH ELEMENT (from The Coup de Grâce, 2016) Wet Dentist practically undetectable in the Ether . . . Wet Dentist in the Ether. Like a rare earth element spit to pieces in an alien environment. Wet Dentist: dead set on reaching machines that ain't been built yet. Like a rare earth element spit to pieces in an alien atmosphere, ascend the stairs to where all living ends. My attendance in oblivion is a requirement. My out-of-whack elemental particles will reach that supernova. And then the info I left behind will get eaten up by machines.

Tweak Your Back (from The Nice Way, 2014) What in the world are you doing? Don't lift that; you'll tweak your back.

THE SUM OF ONE PLUS NEVER (from Fetishist 4 the Dickensian, 2012) This flesh is merely the physical representation of a digital presence. “The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays.” Who are we to restrict this Wet Dentist, the character that writes itself? Did I mention that I'm thinking changing agents? If you politely tore me open right now, you'd see all the cubicles. Just up the stairs, there's offices housing competing interests. What's the diff? We all hand our rent checks to the skin. Blind in the ears, deaf in the eyes, mute to the taste of the stupid surprise. Wet Dentist LLC they keep weird hours, get weird packages from weird places. That's all I remember. If you politely tore me open right now, you'd see all the cubicles. Just up the stairs, there's offices housing competing interests. What's the diff? We all hand our rent checks to the skin. Remembering things is pretty much a waste. What's the point? This body does other things. My weedwacker is so bourgeois. Another fanatic's ideas appear on my refreshed mobile screen. It's gotten to the point I type “blah blah blah.” Now it's buzz buzz buzz buzz. Blind in the ears, deaf in the eyes, mute to the taste of the stupid surprise. The sum of one plus never or the sum of one never plus another. My microphone stand doesn't encapsulate what I typed the other day with all those emoticons, and that freaks me out (even the one that pours cereal in the morning, the one that loves the May lighting bugs the best, the one that thinks it might like humidified paper but knows it fucking hates humidity. This body does other things. My weedwacker is so bourgeois. This flesh is merely the physical representation of a digital presence. “The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays.” Blind in the ears, deaf in the eyes, mute to the taste of the stupid surprise.

HAUS OF WHOA (from The Coup de Grâce, 2016) The teeth gnash – The body wails. Tears like white water rapids erodes words, the doomed rock. She is my wife for life but she hints that she might end it even before her mother dies, who is dying, brain first, body second. She is my wife for life. I gulp a glass of red wine and another to escape it just this night when my love is so tired from all the wailing and gnashing. The fierce currents smashing in half the remnants of speech, and they beat down on the roofs and walls of thought. Her back's half-broken from all the gravity. Her brain's like news footage of a flood carrying a house downstream, and they zoom in on a pet hamster running as fast as it can on its wheel, which may as well be a hamster wheel in an Escher-like environment: kaleidoscopic and brutal. But now she's experiencing a serenity that can only spring from exhaustion then collapse. She does not ponder at this time ending it all, in sleep. I gulp a glass of red wine and another to escape it just this night . . .

COMMUNIQUÉ DENIED (from Border War, 2014) I've got a black suit on and a sky-blue tie. I'm shackled and barefoot, babe, and I think I might die. I had my hair all slicked back just the way you like, But they messed it all up. I can really see this now all in a movie. Even now, I think I'm looking dreamy With this cool sneer on my face while those others scream at me In some crazy dialect of their occupying language. The one guy speaks pretty good broken English But asks me about stuff I've never even heard of. One time, some other guy lit my hand with a Zippo lighter. He just held it there while another held me by the hair. I couldn't stand it; I'm still devastated by it. I wanted you here then, as I do now, so I could squeeze you tightly in hopes to absorb some of this screeching searing pain I feel during what could be my last night on earth.

TOO TOUGH TO RESIST (from Destroyed by Business, 2015) The medical vortex of endless tests and co-pays Bounces you around like a pinball Magnet to magnet, disappointment to disappearing A few days from your email account. The times you want to cry you can't Because your mix of meds seems pretty wrong. Doctors don't listen, and you are too flustered to speak What needs to be hammered into them just so it finally sticks. All that easy money is just too tough to resist. I look at my darling wife, your daughter, And I loosely clutch her chin and say “All that easy money is just too tough to resist. It's their bread and butter. It's not personal; it's just business. People like you and me will be destroyed by business; It's written all over our faces.” It's just business . . .

HAVE THEM FIGHT OUR WAR HERE FOR US (from These Are the Plutocrats, 2013) We will run ad blitzes; I got them all worked out. In a nutshell, they'll shout "you don't have to be one of these dregs. Meet with us on your street corner at dusk. You'll like it when you get a check. Just 3 day weeks, you won't want to sleep. Under the table quick tax-free cash. We pick up thugs in trucks and train them, give'm a bump of meth and a weapon. But when the dawn arises, contractors under the labor laws of Indonesia. Don't even think I haven't met with some of their superiors in middle management along with their language translators. They are a blunt and icy-hot cold lot, brutal on one hand, but still all afraid for themselves on the other, as it should be; it's what works. The number of neighborhoods to penetrate is irrelevant. Overtime pay will be kept to a minimum. We got the labor laws of Indonesia coupled with our plans for after dark. We see an endless supply of applicants, and frankly, there aren't enough people on the other side that are still allowed to vote. And we can all see how that sucks for them. We pick up thugs in trucks and train them, give'm a bump of meth and a weapon. But when the dawn arises, contractors under the labor laws of Indonesia. We have overseen some of the most transformational awakenings of true unhindered liberty at a fraction of our competitions' costs. We're gonna have them fight our war here for us. We feel this business model can sustain itself with high yields for the long term. We have divisions abroad. We will offer applicants a deal on hot water. Chicks'll dig their hot water. We pick up thugs in trucks and train them, give'm a bump of meth and a weapon. But when the dawn arises, contractors under the labor laws of Indonesia.

BUNNIES (from Border War, 2014) We try to name all the bunnies and keep track of them. They get backstories; personalities often spring forth from their features. Nugget is often the tiniest bunny of the season. There was Biscuit and Gravy, two little bunnies. They were in love. Sometimes at dusk, we would stand out on the veranda wondering aloud if Biscuit and Gravy were down their little hidey-hole snuggling. Snoozy was a loner and would lounge every warm, sunny afternoon near the ferns and flowers on what we call The Grassy Knoll. You taught Snoozy how to feast on your chopped-up apple cores, gradually coaxing him to chomp on them right beneath us. Maynard's got a beatnik neck-beard, and Pickles got short ears. They dash back and forth, sometimes right at each other, taking turns avoiding collision by springing a few feet straight up into the sky, faster than Olympic track. This is our I-max . . . The free wooded area next door not only houses varieties of flowers that bloom at different times, there's many other sources of cover from hawks. To our knowledge, there is no record of any hawk ever having any luck with any bunny over here, [and there never will be]. That one time, that cat had something I was able to ascertain that it was definitely not a bunny . . .

SPARE NO COST FOR THE TIME MACHINE (from These Are the Plutocrats, 2013) My words are better than your words, no matter what you say. My air's more pure than yours is; you might as well breathe clay. I'm looking back in time. Pyramids climb to the sky. I say, look at Egypt right now, I mean, come on, really. Parts are like a Soviet gulag circa Stalin when the pictures were so cool. If someone collapses, just toss him. "No person, no problem." Red and yellow, black and white. The lack of factors getting in our way, and so many advances that favor us, we'd be fools not to take advantage; we will be gods on Earth. And we will spare no cost for the time machine. It's our chance now to be eternal, make them all pay dearly to get us there. The decades spent activating our plans could not have begun at a better time. Look at Soviet Russia: their memory's a joke. You know if the South had television, this all wouldn't have taken so long. There wouldn't have been no 20th Century, but then I wouldn't have had my hiphop. My God, the music would be terrible. Red and yellow, black and white. The lack of factors getting in our way, and so many advances that favor us, we'd be fools not to take advantage; we will be gods on Earth. Why are you looking at me that way? And we would spare no cost for the time machine.

SOAK COBALT *BLOAT*DYE*CROAK* (from The Coup de Grâce, 2016) lyrics by Violet Payne Blue chroma saturated my true colors like a sponge. So this is what it feels like; this sieve is where I live, without living. I breathe not by choice. Misfortunes are givens. They take the peach away and are replaced - The crazed masterpiece made by the grubby play-caked frustrated palms of a puzzle-frazzled 4-year old who mistakes the deep lake center of the scene for the sky blue edge pieces and leaves me no borders but a hazy equator. Bye, bi-polar bear south of the border. I can be both and more: deep lock monster - modern day eyesore. Fortunately for you, I no longer resurface (in this form); these dark adapted eyes see nothing but my own colossal extremities (sea asylum - salt injunction - soylent plum - tap water friction). I mention food often, but hunger for nothing, craving from nature no more than her hues. I've starved the fruit from my wooden frame, then set it aflame. I can be both and more: deep lock monster - modern day eyesore. And I'm satisfied - a fine canvas - baptized - bliss. I've quickened the harvest with sticky tar fingers, salve-stained sanguine mortar scarlet petal wound. My dark red rum: a violet payne - emerging magenta. I can be the beautiful spectrum of blue - violet (magnificent) *period* I can be both and more: deep lock monster - modern day eyesore.

These Are End Times you might look more real to me with one of them tattooed tears I'm in comic books I'm in comic books weird subconscious shit don't feel like doing anything about it earthquakes don't kill people buildings kill people (2x) ch now I'll never want to ever calm down galloping like the voice that says these are end times plutocracy's got new lenses talking with the voice people use to talk to pets got a brain like a sieve things get erased, penciled in rewritten, then I try to count the times I was a punctured balloon every second of live television is susceptible . . . I'm gonna get skinnier yet hey look at me I just turned into a puritan slick like a white bird's newly blackened feathers (2x) ch now I'll never want to ever calm down galloping like the voice that says these are end times now I'll never want to ever calm down galloping like the voice that says these are end times that says these are end times br Anon . . . v3 i'm in comic books, i'm in comic books 2x ch plutocracy's got new lenses talking with the voice people use to talk to pets now I'll never want to ever come down galloping with my voice that says these are end times that says these are end times that says these are end times