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We Reeling In The Liars

We are reeling the liars in

Look around you.

Direct your gaze over towards the low hill of politicians and gamesmanship and tell me what you see.

Liars.

I’ll tell you what I see.

I see toddlers in men’s suits, conning other toddlers into that painful fiction. I see grown men yelling across expensive tables loaded to the brim with complex law volumes the pages of which are as clean as a laboratory floor. I see hatred, malice, vindictiveness, falsity, nastiness, cunning flash across red, semi-dilated pupils.

I hear the insect-traps of patriotism breaking and buzzing as clean hearts burn black with false panic. I smell the rotting flesh of nationalism piling up in the streets. I taste the tar tremble through the veins of economists shouting profit! profit! profit!

Ghostly outlines of cities being filled in by real men who are ghostly outlines of real men!

I recoil at the liars face: he is selling cosmetics to children. His breath is quickening, out of fear or excitement, or the twisted combination of the two that must cross the mind of the rapist.

I see the cigar and the mottled lips.

Our gross domestic product is apathy, sweet suicidal apathy, short term memory loss, binge, and purge. Our churches are brown. Our priests are trading god for a chance to rape spirit.

Our media are staggering around the apartment complex, drunk and looking for a cheap f***, pockets lined with payoffs from cheaper f***s still.

Blind, unfortunate state of piglets on cold gratings, struggling past their own open sores to taste metallic tin-milk. Flashes of cold steel cut-off beaks in hot cages where the smell of shit only ever gets stronger. Metal on the bone, not wanting to give up, reluctant surrender.

Our wheels of karma are multi-storey buildings with suicide nets. Suicide nets. Suicide nets. Stop the man from dying, he has work to finish. Keep him here, death is an outrage. Survive.

I recoil at the liars face: he is selling free markets to children. His breath is quickening, out of fear and excitement, that twisted combination of the two that must cross the mind of the rapist.

Gain wealth forgetting all but self. Repeat after me:

My dear people, you will live as I have lived. Eat the food, never ask where it is from. Drink the water, don’t notice the greying. Say the words as if you know what they mean, don’t speak hesitantly. Wear the right clothes. Marry the right one.

Lie. Lie. Lie. Don’t stop.

We won’t lock you up for lying. We’ll lock you up for missing a beat.

Keep going. Be consistent. Maintain momentum.

“We are reeling the liars in,”

I just removed his face. I found a mirror.

“We are removing their face,”

The skin I collected was mine.

“Collecting their skin,”

It’s time.

“The only true place, the place to begin, is by reeling this liar in.”

My dear friend, I’ve been lying to you all along, and my heart cracked open in the betrayal. I must tell you everything.

I never wanted you, until I saw you.

I’m afraid too.

I don’t know what they mean, but I go along with it.

I never really know what to say to you.

Sometimes I tell you that I’m happy when I’m not.

I talk about you behind your back.

I don’t know if I know how to really trust anyone.

I get hurt badly and thicken my skin, it’s hard for anyone to come in.

I want it, I close my heart and choose safety over love.

Words catch in my throat every day, a thousand songs get left unsung.

I sometimes sing in my room by myself and feel a lump of sorrow fall out onto my tongue.

I’m genuinely struggling to cope with the responsibility of being human, knowing that simultaneously I am incredibly powerful and completely powerless.

I hold back tears from you.

I hold back laughter too.

Sometimes I choose my own laziness over compassion.

I hesitate out of fear and trap you in who you think you are.

I yearn to say it all, to let it all flow out and to hell with the consequences. I hold myself back.

There are some though, that fall ready, like morning dew onto a soil shaking with anticipation, and need no pushing. Listen to the sound they make as they fall:

I am in love.
I am here.
I am that.
I am breathing.

Come, be washed of your sin:

“The only true place, the place to begin, is by reeling this liar in.”

Too much Too soon

Look around you.

Direct your gaze over towards the low hill of politicians and gamesmanship and tell me what you see.

Liars.

I’ll tell you what I see.

I see toddlers in men’s suits, conning other toddlers into that painful fiction. I see grown men yelling across expensive tables loaded to the brim with complex law volumes the pages of which are as clean as a laboratory floor. I see hatred, malice, vindictiveness, falsity, nastiness, cunning flash across red, semi-dilated pupils.

I hear the insect-traps of patriotism breaking and buzzing as clean hearts burn black with false panic. I smell the rotting flesh of nationalism piling up in the streets. I taste the tar tremble through the veins of economists shouting profit! profit! profit!

Ghostly outlines of cities being filled in by real men who are ghostly outlines of real men!

I recoil at the liars face: he is selling…

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