Dedicated fans of linguistics love tongue twisters, French kissing, and psychobabble. Not including Cognitive Anal Syndrome, a condition noted by a pioneer of libidinal equality, who encouraged men to take the who out of whore and women to take the over out of lover and relish the leftovers. A simple diet of beans and corn keeps the psychologist away. The call for heroic discipline in the quest to reveal everyone’s humanity inspires salesmen to turn silent and weep, capitalists to divest themselves of finance and invest in public works for the profit of the community, and prisons to release their inmates to hug the trees in the national forests and subsist on the greedy insects devouring them. As greedy as universities flourishing on the absence of meaning. Dressing for success breeds camophlage, denys upbringing, and thinks of toilet paper as poetry in motion. Ever since God was born the womb turned out drudges until the invention of the tin can opener unleashed the recipe for easy does it and the rise of psychobabble.
The poetry of rural crime celebrates nightmare as existence, from which no one can awake. Those who soak their vocal chords in daily baths of testosterone cannot escape the femininity of banning reality from the home where life, death, and love dance to the tunes of gay caballeros. The blue sky above inspires starving artists to feed on the abstract expressions of clouds and the impending feasts to be delivered by the helicopters and jets just beyond reach. A tight, dour, minimalist performer entertains the self in the mirror by scowling, eyebrows raising a ruckus, each hair springing into a mad tangle of enigma and fugal variation. As fugal as Bach on steroids. Vacuum cleaners pretend not to notice the filth they consume by surrendering their ethics to the slaves that produce the electricity. Corporations that embrace the future when their time is over, delude the consumer with the nightmare of eternal promise.