the ritual of imitating joy in the U.S. encampment

habitat breathing enforcing an expected mandatory joy
presence in this atmosphere is an ontological nightmare
taking people’s money for the purpose of poor taxes,
tongues of hypocrisy, ignoring the community needs,
despite the rule of law, there was never an intent
no one is expected to be a safeguard, no lookouts,
just the pretense for a narrative that documents our illness
our inclined righteousness could be sowed, like a garden
a community of blind spots blocks us away from each other
that is the whole idea, joyous pretending, and the judges sing

work until death like a favored pastime, wrestling with war
a timepiece that does not connect to an algorithm or a net
steps praying for each other, one foot at a time, on the floor
under another floor, beneath another and so on, impeached
strangling the memories of hairpin triggers riding on the horse
resting along the killer’s path to the voyage, shot down
never come into my prison and tell me I deserve even less
I have been giving over power before you were born
I’ve come know how to care for myself and that I can bend
you never will be a vision behind, you were never in fronting
Only the French know how I feel, and only the disabled French
Straining capitalist constructs to its own end and future nerves