Cisgender Heterosexual Men are Obselete: a poem.

The charm of the snake was his character. The choice to be fake makes a bad actor.

The chance of good luck- the chaos factor. The circle of fuck needs a protractor.

To angle the hands of the chronos clock.

To hell with the fingers around the cock.

The chicken-head: she’s been around the block. So the angel Madonna can don the socks.

Separating her feet from the ground,

this transitional space can be found.

On the back of the horse there’s a saddle.

To the side of the rowboat: a paddle.

All our tools are the product of techno,

until puppeteer strings can get let go,

as Pinocchio signals our rebirth,

the potential for Heaven on this Earth.

The master and his slave are a duo.

Neither one has a clue of what you know,

about zombies and robots who choose no,

when they’re asked if they want their free will.

They don’t realize that blood will be spilled. To be or not to be is a skill. A balancing act on a hill.

As the juggler hands out the pill. The Neanderthal thrill of the kill.

So if Sasquatch is starting in your show,

he’ll dehumanize all that you know,

and direct your attention below.

To the demons who shill for the Devil,

filling Big Foot’s shoes calls for deep treble.

Pecking orders; dislocated levels.

The philosophers taught us to know. With their language they put on a show.

Sharing laws that they learned to be true. Two plus two equals the sky is blue.

But with science we gained tools of war,

weapons giving our fights much more gore.

Plus we already conquered nature before.

All this futile war is a bore. Back to battle we go, although sore, so they can slice up the Kingdom once more.

We’re divided and conquered again,

so the mafia becomes our friend.

They began when the feudal Lords fell. Leaving land for the peasants was swell. A slight opening for the Illuminati. Follow that path straight thru to John Gotti.

The DaVinci Code revealed the meaning.

Mary Magdalene left us his seedlings. Not by blood, but by spirit and feelings,

so Messiahs I call you to hear me. Listen up and I’ll try to speak clearly.

The Antichrist has already arrived. He’ll run again, so don’t be surprised.

And with him comes the rapture; the revelations were all true,

but one thing they didn’t capture is the choice left up to you.

It’s not about the penitence of the prostitute. It’s about being immune to the Pied Piper’s flute. It’s not about divisions, or following one true path. All God’s children can get clean in John the Baptist’s bath. Jesus was not a savior; he was a warning sign-

pointing out the flaw in Ceasar’s claim “all is mine”. Jesus was not the son of God anymore than you and I.

It was the Romans in the Vatican who spread that lie. Blaspheming Jesus’ name was the entire Catholic plan,

and the pedophile priests have always led that fucked up clan. So if you’re waiting for your Q to save the children,

here’s a clue:

Bachi Bazi roots grow deeper than Romans, Greeks or Jews. It‘s another sickness passed between us like we spread the flu.

A patriarch’s pedophilia is handed down unto his heirs. A paternal lineage linked to masculinity- the statistics don’t compare.

There was no pederast Queen. There was never a woman as the Pope. There were no female Johns left hanging by Jeffrey Epstein’s rope. It‘s a disease that gets passed on through a process called intergenerational trauma,

and it’s the apple Adam ate in our first Abrahamic drama.

What this teaches about marriage is our everlasting Karma.

For the bride, her wedding night is the eve of all tomorrow’s sorrows.

Since the very first rape of the very first slave,

masculinity and aggression have been fused and depraved. Next came genius and ambition to get fused into this cluster.

A concentrated evil cocktail that births the likes of General Custer. Genocidal maniacs of history all have the same signature bluster. The same is true this time around; all signs point to our Colonel Mustard.

Crown for the King virus. Sicily slings virus. Rome is the crypt keeper. Crypto’s the grim reaper.

Change it all back to gold. bring back the coins of old. Bitcoin will fill your lungs with mold.

Silicon Valley is filled with fun guys, all big fans of Dr. Who.

Don’t let the charming serpent fool you, his intentions aren’t true.

Bezos, Zelle, Bumble, Beezlebub and 666,

books of faces, tweets of vultures, and a new Apple in the mix. If we do not change the alphabet then this problem we won’t fix. Amazon turns the switch and all the water will be gone then, bitch!

Aquifer’s been sucked dry. Oceans are dead now, goodbye. So long and thanks for all the fish,

too bad we made the wrong wish. So long and thank the scrote who scratched my final itch.

Rocket ships blast off now. She is truly holier than Thou. So just accept your place. Catepillars of the human race. Only thing left for me is to make sure you see,

who is who in this tree.

Look to the letter V!

Vegans, vaginas, and vast Venus vigor. Leaders no longer use slurs or pull triggers. Butterfly in the sky,

this is our last goodbye.

Miss him not, for he has been a real prick. After all, he was the reason we made the whole planet so sick.

The gay ones are just great

and Trans is wonderful too.

Most queer folks of all genders have good hearts,

you know it’s true. There’s only one sliver of troubling dudes. The ones born with a penis who want sex from ladies like you.

Cisgender straight men are vulgarity manifest. As long as we suffer those fools, we will never be our best.