Epic Neediness Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

Supposed
within an
evocation is
an invocation
and, some control
over a worth's precision
transfixed, by other than a
simplified something; an intense
adulation, within the insatiable; this
ardour, an obeisance towards genuflections
upon and throughout, one looming election…
Are you getting an erection? Are your palms both
blistered, and bloodied from shaking your, flesh
I'd bet yes! You, an insipidly inspired, cunning
compulsive beast, that can never be sated.
Individual, appealing, multi-layered being
wearing the coloured skin, and stink of a
compromised Pharisee made up; wake up!
Pundits rage, the masses rave; the mosh pit
of insanity grows, as whose minions arrayed
fear not, to stand up and bray against all rivals
and any crowd of gathering frowning clowns; and
at every term of substance these abuse…
An agenda's intentions, the bought and sold media's
dominion, as anti to every coherent argument towards
this; like so many ‘stoned groupies', turning violent against
scruples, drawing closer scrutiny to the term, worship!
And bow down to what agent, what orange, what
agitation of decorum; that such as with pieces of
silver, a plotting of some wayward agenda advanced
some strategy this; seeking to confuse the non-thinking
masses into political actions with consequences beyond
that which these losers can comparably comprehend…
Executing their own surrendering pathologically, to the
well of woes, that insults drain, in any monopolized
entity, spontaneously reacting in that "knee jerking"
sway, for just a scant moment, until their blubbering
no longer sells airtime and ad space, and then; as each
individual ocean wave dies, dies upon the shores, of
every land, and recedes without any consequence
slipping quietly back into the swill of every sea…
This oddity; with no utility, of non-sequential
frequency, is an inquisitors dream! That
‘watchers cream', protecting the progression
of time, belatedly; for these fumbling lunatics
these genetic mistakes, provide so many channels
of entertaining and diversionary ‘stand up' materials
for every being "dancing throughout the stars"
and it is such the laugh! ! !
The machination of political theater; nothing
news, nothings nude, nada viewed, as substance
that lingering illness, of a questioning and unnatural
insistence of allowing touts and pundits too, `sound bite'
an `untruth', until it is considered `the truth', by rabid
and fanatical beasts! "Ready, Aim, Fire"; away with
the `refined messages", with any useful purpose
it is the coverage of the people in `OUR' excrement
this is what is desired by the `show', the `theater'
the `puppet handlers'; each eager to enlarge
`their portions', thoroughly gorging upon
every ingredient of `your pie'! ! !
Incessantly, and readily in an understanding
of `their agenda'; to render the each of you, into
worm food! You fools! Everything is of consequence
every word uttered is a partial truth and a practical lie
measure carefully what you hear, so you will speak
only that which is free and clear of all doubts; and
only speak, what is bearing of your mark, that is
blaring against the twists of personal vanity and
is not that diatribe of the present day `Hannities'
so often viewed as the reassuring faces of the
insanity that `you' suffer through each day…
Thus supposed, is the invocation; precision
transfixed, insatiable throughout an evocation
and insipidly inspired cannot be sated; as
multi-layered insanity arrayed, or dominion
coherent, violent; worshipped by a non-thinking
mass surrendering to monopolized political theater
blabbering oddities without utility, fumbling lunatics
of a lingering illness; without purpose, covered in
excrement and gorging on worm food! Each part
of a practical lie, and an improbable truth; every
one, all you know, all that is and is to come, is
in essence, sold out! Are not you each lacking
of that which is to all; an epic neediness?