the marketplace is

the tyranny of

convention

many many many

of the artists

i know and i

know them in

their guts

a few

in their bowels

are creating

the same fucking

images they

created years

ago

or the same

fucking poetry

they created

years ago

because feeding

the voraciousness

of the marketplace

is an addiction

to conventional

form iambic dreams

of stones the so-called

realists thinking

they have given us

the skeletons

of hope

have in fact

spread tyranny

as a commodity

whose structure

is a corporate

greed and all

of them should

be executed