"I've got this killer up inside of me... I can't talk to my mother, (friends, women, coworkers, associates, affiliates, city council, the internets, the homeless or even your mother) so I talk to my diary."

-that Scarface song from Office Space

Malice Inferno/Mammon Be My Name


I can see it now
Underneath the brilliantly irradiated skies
She attempts with blinding light
To destruct the sight
And outsource the score of man’s delight.

Whittling the tune
To concert with a master’s boon:
Pizzicato on the strings
Harmonizing an inversion of nature’s might.

Diabolus in Musica

A carcinogen to the mind
Straddling as a backpack
On the fact of the Meager
Whom converts on command to be putrid
and weak or,
Widens his pupils,
Accepts the fervent charge
Towards a beleaguered saturnalia
Of gratification by means found
in the grift present
in any comparable size:
A devil or saint in constant attempt…

To convince me otherwise.

-Saturday, December 06, 2008

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