I will no longer prevent you from being offended, cater to an imaginary reader, make edible art change and progress cannot be invisible theory made in secret labs no -- sometimes that which is in your face is necessary to see what must change.
i will stop petitioning for a greater audience, a grander stage on which to perform my tricks of the trade will remain in the soul possession of a few dedicated people whom i care for there is money enough in the world so i give you my love for free life's too short so let us dance to the sound of bombs in a crooked world a proper action is revolution one wish in a world at war: a day of peace so i invite a modest, brave soul to take interest
i will no longer purchase goods or make bold choices in the super market place products in my room will no longer advertise my preferences (nor shall wallet or watch proclaim my identity) if you can read me by the decoration of my room then when i am gone of this world- why do you miss me? true, in my room dwells my soul but my possessions do not define me and i cease to be myself: this pencil that garment this bed that nail, screw, tack and thread... tied to the reel of avaricious profit men whose noses so big can not see the middle know i have found peace (a release) a life of simple desire
