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    Revolution on Canvas, Volume 1

    Page 2
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      Even though we sleep together we’re alone

      And I find it hard to get out of bed

      And we operate but

      I still feel alone

      And I can’t complain

      Cause she’s so beautiful

      Yes we all have made mistakes

      GABE SAPORTA

      Midtown

      Everyday the same joke

      I never think it’s funny

      Nothing’s ever what it seems

      The truth becomes a dream

      And we reach for what we’re missing in ourselves

      I fought away this desperation

      I made attempts to quell temptation

      I swear to god I tried, but we could never compromise

      You could never change me

      And we reach for what we’re missing in—

      We don’t know how to let love in

      Don’t you cry

      For me

      Because I’m already dead.

      BOBBY DARLING

      Gatsby’s American Dream

      Industry, the Age of Dinosaurs, and the End of Civilization

      they call this the badlands baby

      but it used to be bayou

      the shore of an inland sea

      and i can still hear you coming

      what foul beast stalks this way

      the night is dim

      but i catch the scent of your arrogance

      as you rear your head i can see your eyes gleaming

      catching light from the moon

      like a pair of knives

      to cut me down

      yeah there is a hole in the world

      and the light is leaking out

      spilling like water

      and i can still hear you coming

      what new devilry is this?

      i saw you rise

      and creep across the sky

      and all night as i fled

      you came behind

      eating all the stars

      we dig to find

      why the light left

      skulls and bone

      rock and stone

      whisper stories

      tales of glory

      and a tragic fall from grace

      we’re still falling

      just like the dinosaurs

      what makes you think we’ll end up any different

      JOSEPH KARAM

      The Locust

      Wet Dream War Machine

      Stop talking politics

      Rephrase, Rephrase

      Hibernating phantom friend

      Witness, Witness

      There’s a hotbed of isms around here.

      All hail the chopper,

      the blitzkrieg,

      the tank.

      Never mind the ethics involved.

      Stop talking politics.

      Calculate, Eliminate

      Witness, This mess

      Who’s got their nightmare glasses?

      It’s time to go diving.

      Prime time is

      crime time is

      nuclear might.

      All hail the chopper,

      the blitzkrieg,

      the tank.

      Never mind the ethics involved.

      SHANE TOLD

      Silverstein

      Bleeds No More

      My heart bleeds no more; now, it’s been turned to stone. Your stomach feels sick for someone else. I’ve broken both my legs falling for you. Drag me on the ground. Powerless I stand, tarnished blade, cutting through, pushed into my vein. Blood still stains my hands. Sharpening my sense of pain outside, my heart bleeds no more. Killing everything off inside. Make sense of everything you tried to hide from me. My heart bleeds no more; now, it’s been turned to stone. My stomach feels sore from cutting up. I ruined all my sanctity for you. Smash me on the ground. I wanted to convince myself there’s nothing else to do. I wanted to provide you with proof of what you put me through. I wanted to pretend that I was you.

      MIKE BURKETT

      NOFX

      Re-Gaining Unconsciousness

      First they put away the dealers, keep our kids safe and off the

      street

      Then they put away the prostitutes, keep married men

      cloistered at home

      Then they shooed away the bums, then they beat and bashed

      the queers

      Turned away asylum seekers, fed us suspicions and fears

      We didn’t raise our voice, we didn’t make a fuss

      It’s funny there was no one left to notice when they came for

      us

      Looks like witches are in season, you better fly your flag and

      be aware

      Of anyone who might fit the description, diversity is now our

      biggest fear

      Now with our conversations tapped and our differences

      exposed

      How ya supposed to love your neighbor, without minds and

      curtains closed

      We used to worry about big brother, now we got a big father

      and an even bigger mother

      And you still believe, this aristocracy gives a fuck about you

      They put the mock, in demockracy and you swallowed every

      hook

      The sad truth is you would rather follow the school into the

      net

      Cuz swimming alone at sea is not the kind of freedom you

      actually want

      So go back to your crib and suck on a tit and go bask in the

      warmth of your diaper

      You’re sitting in shit and piss while sucking a huge pacifier a

      country of adult infants

      A legion of mental midgets a country of adult infants a

      country of adult infants

      All re-gaining their unconsciousness

      MIKE BURKETT

      NOFX

      Idiots Are Taking Over

      It’s not the right time to be sober now the idiots are taking

      over

      Spreading like a social cancer is there an answer

      Mensa membership conceding, tell me why (And how) are all

      the stupid people breeding

      Watson, it’s really elementary, the industrial revolution has

      flipped a bitch on evolution

      The benevolent and wise are being thwarted, ostracized, what

      a bummer

      The world keeps getting dumber insensitivity is standard, and

      faith is being fancied over reason

      Darwin’s rolling over in his coffin, cuz the fittest are

      surviving much less often

      Now everything seems to be reversing, and it’s worsening

      Someone flopped a steamer in the gene pool

      Now angry mob mentality is no longer the exception, it’s the

      rule

      And I’m starting to feel a lot like Charlton Heston, stranded

      on a primate planet

      Apes and orangutans that ran it to the ground, were generals

      and the armies who obeyed them

      Followers following fables, philosophies that enable them to

      rule without regard

      It sounds all too familiar

      There’s no point for democracy when ignorance is celebrated

      Political scientists get the same one vote as some Arkansas

      inbred

      Majority rule don’t work in the mental institutions

      Sometimes the smallest, softest voice carries the grand

      biggest solutions

      So what are we left with? a nation of god fearing pregnant

      nationalists

      Who feel it’s their duty to populate their homeland

      Pass on traditions, how to get ahead religions and prosperity

      via simpleton culture

      The idiots are taking over.

      VINCENT REYES

      Friends In The Mountains

      St. Anthony

      I’m sure the mist of an invisible spring

      must have invaded the young Ascetic’s mind.


      FORNICATION,

      The last temptation carrying secret baskets

      filled with the miniature gardens of Persian kings.

      How was it that the painter Hieronymous Bosch

      kept his hands still to paint that Dutch mistress

      hiding half of her flesh behind a corroded tree trunk.

      This royal lady of unchastity,

      promising nurture and sweetness

      to all of her loyal subjects.

      I’ve crowned her queen fornication of North Africa.

      The woman who roams the World putting plastic

      Lilies behind the ears of lonely men.

      Saint Anthony must have heard her soft seductive sound

      in the desert.

      Fornication’s silk mantle blowing in the dry wind.

      That savoring sound of pleasure

      Then the voice:

      “Do not deny what is good for you, stupid Egyptian.

      Do not deny what is natural.”

      I imagine the young Saint closing his eyes and trying

      to transform his racing heart of blood and body

      into an illumined Lily that would fill his entire

      being with a living scent.

      VINCENT REYES

      Friends In The Mountains

      Watching Traffic from the Navel of a Golden Lotus

      “If one speaks or acts with wicked mind, because of that, pain pursues him, even as a wheel follows the hoof of the draught ox.“

      —The Dhammapada

      A lady crying in traffic gave the day the eternity it was looking for.

      The steering wheel,

      rusted under her tears,

      became the sun.

      A miracle or alchemy?

      An armillary sphere

      Like the Buddhist wheel of truth I had seen

      in some museum’s private collection,

      placed behind glass and an alarm system.

      I remember the back of her head,

      Mother of this family whose eyes are always

      Moving,

      Left,

      Right,

      but mainly towards the direction of light.

      RUSS RANKIN

      Good Riddance

      Only Crime

      Blank Pages

      When I stop living

      When I am dead

      When I no longer walk, talk,

      Or breathe

      When my insides stop working

      Will I leave anything substantial?

      Will anything I’ve done, said,

      Or erected

      During my brief tour here

      Empower, enlighten,

      Or endure

      When I happen to pause

      In the course of an average day

      And think these thoughts

      It’s as if Time itself hits me

      On it’s way to wherever

      It is going

      In such a hurry

      Why am I?

      There are no answers for me

      In this life

      Only these long days

      And blank pages to fill

      RUSS RANKIN

      Good Riddance

      Only Crime

      The Final Act

      He balls up both fists

      With a single, fluid movement

      He knocks himself out

      Forever

      The pain and bitterness

      Like a rabid dog at his heels

      All these years

      Are gone in an instant

      Now the real peace

      The final act

      In a ballet of despair

      No longer will he be forced

      To interact with his fellow

      Useless husks of skin

      Their trite, mundane little dramas

      The soap opera that never ends

      Until now

      No more vain attempts

      To attract a woman

      Leaving him humiliated

      The butt of a cruel,

      Biological hoax

      The uneasiness lifted

      The infirmities of his species

      A distant memory

      To rot away with the worms

      To finally escape

      He closes his eyes and,

      For the first time in years,

      He smiles

      RUSS RANKIN

      Good Riddance

      Only Crime

      Busy?

      The barricade is up

      And the light techs are busy with the lights

      And the sound men

      Are working on the sound

      And yet I’m still here

      On a weathered concrete bench

      Inside a musty disco basement

      In a crowded Italian city

      And the smell is effusive

      And the day simply refuses to end

      RUSS RANKIN

      Good Riddance

      Only Crime

      Bad Graffiti

      Two young girls in winter coats

      Squatting head to head

      Near a crumbling cinder wall

      Held together by layers of bad graffiti

      With bright blue plastic shovels

      They till the fecund soil

      And discuss things of worldly import

      To a German girl of five

      They dig and talk

      Talk and dig

      On an otherwise barren,

      Windswept street

      RUSS RANKIN

      Good Riddance

      Only Crime

      There Are the Dogs

      The rare northern sun

      Sends a scattered shadow

      Across the dew specked grass floor

      Of the open air venue

      Squatters huddle and smoke

      Listening to Discharge

      Yes, there are the dogs

      The ever present familiars

      Of the dedicated anti-socialites

      With their pink dreads

      And Conflict shirts

      Tonight strains of empowerment

      Will ring off the graffiti-caked walls

      Of this ex-slaughterhouse

      While outside you can buy

      French fries and cigarettes

      AARON BARRETT

      Reel Big Fish

      Untitled Wave

      Tree tops spin

      Like elbow water dog balloons

      Full figured fandango

      I spit into the future and

      a cherry flavored dump truck

      sits at the opening to the

      cave of my misery

      What do I see?

      The third letter of The

      Alphabet

      EVAN JEWETT

      Maida

      Earnest Psychotics/Parasitic Idiotics

      it is high time for the cutting of ropes

      in backwards movies I saw my mistakes

      but my heart does not agree with the logically sound

      sycophantic ploys to gain entry

      into my complicated machinery

      while I was caught up in chivalry

      you were becoming my circuitry

      EVAN JEWETT

      Maida

      Be Kind

      it’s always a careless new skirt

      and I’m always second best to your visits with sand

      a dime for each burden and i’d buy you the answers

      fall asleep with your bad habit

      breathe it in and hold it

      you will never be cold again

      i’ve kept my eyes down

      and I’ve kept my heart shut

      but I never forgot

      to forget

      eject and escape

      rewind and erase

      eject and escape

      rewind and erase

      I am choking on your dust

      DEREK KIESGEN

      Bear vs. Shark

      To the credit of the remake

      that was a good Dracula

      cruel oiled hair

      dangerous teeth

     
    fine diction

      his strut like rooster

      his minion bitches dark sexy

      grand two hours

      to be the time to leave

      to walk down the avenue

      with Harker in mind

      jealous coward

      great gang bowie knife conclusion

      retame her

      dry up the wet moisture from the lap of the monster luster

      fail to see beyond your union and the possibility of a brighter

      Harker loose in the pants got his fun

      laying tight with the vampire vixens

      boobies and inner thigh bites

      good job

      I hope the marriage to your property lasts forever.

      DEREK KIESGEN

      Bear vs. Shark

      I lust Watched XXX and It Was Awesome

      he jumped barns

      he jumped avalanches

      he jumped jumps

      I kept throwing up and crying because it was so awesome

      too awesome

      I feel empty now

      I feel like dying

      I can’t ride dirtbikes like him

      I can’t do that cool sideways thing over a gully

      he is an asshole

      I am an asshole

      there is no reason here

      only illusions

      DEREK KIESGEN

      Bear vs. Shark

      They have no tear ducts

      just light weight durable alloys

      and mysterious gray skin

      I would like to four wheel with them someday

      trade stories

      DEREK KIESGEN

      Bear vs. Shark

      Benedict Arnold Middle School

      Mr. Gregorian

     


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