Archive for the ‘Zapad (запад)’ Category

The newspaper’s full of lies,

sad surprise,

pretend integrity,

John Bull(shit),

bulwark of democracy,

deluding the masses

and buying

election victories

for the controlling classes,

puppet masters,

since the days of yore


forever more.





Honest John and other lies…

history teaches,

media, agendas,

delusions paralyze.




Visit the newsroom,

if you dare.

For some it’s a vibrant place,

information, process, disseminate, fast-pace.

For me it’s depressing,

an overload of noise and soundbites,

mostly meaningless shit.

The editors push,

the journalists (they don’t have time or freewill to properly think)

churn out crap,

factoids and innuendos,

the readers are ready to be fed.

Welcome to the Times, New York, London,

the Sun rises and falls, Daily News, Daily Mail,

hearts fail.

Welcome to democracy’s bulwark.

Welcome to lies and fear.




“Populists!” the Liberals sneer,

but… isn’t that Democracy?




Today, they convert you

to their perverted way of thinking,



and delighting certain tendencies.

(Clever, addictive storylines on your TV & computer screen…)

They inhabit and take over,

your soul and being,

leaving no space or desire

for resistance.

(Indeed, I wonder which evil was worse, and how:

then or now…)




Fuck you and your election (!)

your protest march,

your commentary.

“Progressive”, “conservative”,

exploiters and oppressors all!

Fuck your democracy,

function and form,

your hollow ideas of society,

the machinery,

benefiting the few,

screwing the masses,

deluding and coercing,

sucking dry.

Let me be,


Peace and sanity.

Deal with the weather.

Forecast history.





tiredness hits

like a brick.

After a certain point of time,

depending on the day,

I lose my capacity for self-reflection,


I want to forget,

indeed, escape!




Do you remember when the exception

became the rule?

An exact moment,

a sliding scale?

Life’s progression,

travesty and pain,

your enthusiasm wanes

matures: disdain.

Child-like excitement,

excess, indulgence…

Joie de vivre…

Becomes adult depression,



with information,


and mortification.


some sunsets

are not worth watching.




A little before they put me away,

in a cell,

beyond time and place,

Donald Trump had been elected “leader of the free world”.

Leader of the Free World?

Frankly, who won the election is not my focus,

it’s the very statement: “Leader of the Free World”.


I simper, deliberately,


grandiosely, that’s what Americans

(and many others from deferential nations)

call Mr. President.


oh my,


such hubris!

Such arrogance!


such use of words,

intent and content,

is absurd.



that’s the word!

Welcome to the life on Planet Earth,

everyday theater of the absurd.




One day (or night), they came and took me out of my cell,

out of the prison altogether.

I was put in the back of a darkened van and driven away,

as far as I could tell

and/or remember.

I don’t know, maybe it was a hallucination,

electrode-conducted, drug-induced,

or maybe it was reality,

but suddenly I was in the West,

or, at least what I imagine Zapad to be.

I was in some kind of massive shop,

it was full of people,

it was full of produce and products,

but most of all it was full of noise,

a cacophony of head-piercing noise,

talking, music, and confusion,

jostling and delirium,

slow moving,


unfriendly plastic faces blending…

Sensory overload,

stomach churning,


I collapsed and curled into a foetal position.

I shut my eyes and tried to block it out.

But the noise was too terrible and insidious,

the vibe too destructive.

This was torture I couldn’t handle,

I decided I would confess,

tell my captors what they wanted to hear,

just let me get back to peace and quiet,

my cell or death, either would do.

I felt a new, sharp pain,

someone kicked at my head,

it was a small foot,

a child’s,

it kept kicking.

I heard the word “Christmas”

and I blacked out.

That is all I remember.

Sometime later, I woke up in my cell,

mouth dry and lips stuck together,

I had the distinct feeling that I’d been violated.