THE BRAINLESS CORPSE IN VELVET
ROAD KILL / FHTAGN
A Lo Life boy stares out the window of his car,
Lo-Fi beats on Loop because reverb makes him feel whole.
Dissonance in his Life not yet known, he searches for Likeness,
He searches for Love and drowns the sour Lemonade with Lust.
He attracts those Like him, but always feels a Little Lost.
Latino, expected to be something, born of a sacrifice for the Likelihood of success.
And he dares tempt Lady Luck? Lord knows the boy’s game is bust.
Live, from Text Document Square Garden, we have L,
Who dares change the Letter that makes him Who he Is.
He faiLs to understand.
He doesn’t knoW Who he Wants to be.
Until he discovered Writing.
Then the taLentLessness turned into something that looked remoteLy possibLe.
And the L was found dead, meaningLess.
AnD tHe PoEm wAs FoUnD DeAd, MeAniNgLeSs.
MAGGOTS formed around his BRAIN and feasted upon his LUCID nightmare of a LIFE.
AND THE MAGGOTS fLeW, AND THE BOY STARTED SCREAMING,
BECAUSE THE BOY wAS GIVEN A SECOND CHANCE,
BECAUSE THE BOY HAD ONE last SHOT TO DISAPPOINT EVERYONE.
But the boy had to caLm doWn,
Lest his audience think he’s too edgy.
Then he found the funk, and the rest was history, and the rest was meaningless,
And the L was found dead, meaning Less.
The boy Was never a saint, but Lady Luck kissed him on the cheek.
The show must aLWays go on.
And so it went on.
And the guesses continued.
Zero percent chance of success.
You were the Leviathan fighting ELohim,
Because even God didn’t know what it was.
Because the L was meaningless, meaning less, mean ingles.
Con La Letra L no hay negocios.
“I’m still not making it clear, '' said the boy.
“So do it yourself, if you want to torture this dead body for a meaning.”
The boy stared back at his cadaver, Lowering himself, poking at his victim’s dark eyes.
Poor you, to be blessed without purpose.
Poor you, son of the past, son of your environment, father to hate!
And the L in the DeviL in the DetaiLs of Life sang,
“I once had a Life
Or rather, Life had me.
God’s obituary states
Dreams and actuaLization
Are free in the name of peace and Love.
Maggots crawL, a face of Life, eyes of death.
And yet, aLL we see is that esse,
That crux of the mind is the seLf.
Lust for the Love of the Living.
Train that Lust Like a monk,
Make your bed and dream.”
And the boy rang silent.
And Lady Luck rang silent.
And the corpse rang silent, its Last words echoed beyond its death.
And the L doesn’t want to fade away.
And the L was meaningless.
And the L had no idea what it was doing anyway.
And the L rots away, aware of its own ego,
And the Loop begins again.
And the poem has only one more line that starts with the word And.
And I always was a Liar.
And I am wildly self-absorbed.
And everything meant something to me.
And I Love you.
And I am already dead.
And finally did the Maggots that crawled like Magnets across the letter man’s brain fly.
And I am Maggie.
And the dream doesn’t end with L.