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I Can Drown With The Rest Of The Sheep
 
Time follows time and time follows time and time
follows time. It is endless, forever, never-ending.

One equals two and three more minutes and you’re
dead. Castrated ambition cloaking my sense of

belonging. The birds flap their wings but they are about
as free as fish in an aquarium. They proclaim liberty

only to ally themselves with servitude. The drinks get
drunk and the drunks get drenched. The bars stay open

later and later. Flapping signs blinking on and off that
never promise anything but escaping. Words jumble

onwards, words jumble onwards, words jumble onwards.
There is a same-ness to every single day. It begins

to fu.ck with the mind and it is time we learn to think for
ourselves but we can’t because the rent is due. We most

continue to kow-tow to the man who writes the cheque. Laugh
at his humour and sell the heart. Nothing is for free.

I find I am getting lazier by the day and the songs play but I
don’t understand them anymore. So I smash the radio to the

ground and stomp it to death. Makes me feel I am in control
of my destiny. In a frenzied dash of energy I masturbate myself

into submission. Now I have become a perfect citizen because
I question nothing and smile like a grinning jack-ass. The

television is always on. That way I don’t have to use my
imagination. I can drown with the rest of the sheep.

By Chris G Vaillancourt

© 2011 Chris G Vaillancourt (All rights reserved)

 

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