My Anarchist Poem

The Marxist Shop-Worker

A dead body.
An alone commodity, the spirit inside a shell.
The future is insanity, the future is now.

‘Healthy’ like the worshipped blade
Cutting through sheets of money.
Divided up to make the unfair nurses band¹
We are the workers of the land.
In positive laziness we work two hours a day,
What is life but to be free?

Edges of indulgence trap citizens
‘A cynic I am, I hate worldly things’
So Schizotypals Unite! Let Our fear of celebrity frighten all of God’s humanity.
Powerful personalities can’t pollute Mother Earth with their hypnotizing greed
From this moment We will lead
To unite masculine and feminine ties
Whilst in heaven a dead body cries.

I was working in a card shop at the time (not giving them publicity)

Enter

Beastly desires ravage my pure soul. Heated sexual disgust...

I have performed well, I have produced a birth chart. Sun sign is Scorpio.

Look yours up!