The Vomit of Our Modern Decay

A rant, a love letter to my favourite book, Steppenwolf and a solid mockery of our British society

THE VOMIT OF OUR MODERN DECAY

 

 

Faustus hearts

Are all tax evaders.

 

I never feel better

Until I slide in

A copy of Hesse’s

Steppenwolf into my

Back pocket.

Ripped and curled,

Well read and beer

Stained during the

Afternoon of dole

Sadness.

 

Job centre;

Self flagellation,

My heart screams:

 

Literature Masturbation.

Regurgitation.

Breaking news castration.

Asylum seekers strip joint,

Immigrants in lingerie;

Exploited like that of

Our English country.

Stripped, sexualised,

Raped with cash in its

Garters. Abhor the

Emile Zola w****s

Bastardised

Cause rants about

Miller and Kant.

Huysmans abusers

And born again drug users.

Torn pages of Naked Lunch

Inserted into the rectums

Of the unemployed.

Botox Rembrandt

With scientology abscess,

Blessed with the hearse

Of BNP slurs –

Foul mouthed football

Hooligans cheer for

Their concentration camps.

Council house Plath,

Mass murder Goethe

Of boozing Britain.

NHS incest infest

The vomit of our modern

Decay. Do what

Sycophant Brown says;

The House of Commons

Where fools and tragedians

Discourse, Union Jack ablaze!

Impoverished wage slips

Singing Teenage Kicks.

Paralysed by conspicuous

Merchants of Labour.

Detached by sermons

Of Huxley dreams

And prayers of

Sartre existentialism.

Hung, drawn and quartered

Democracy;

Ballot box in a manger.

 

Steppenwolf in my back

Pocket;

 

I can sleep.

 

 

CRAIG PODMORE ©

12/03/08

 

 

Reviews

[Rachel Eisenberg]

Huysmans, Hesse, Sartre, Kant... (etc)

All together, now. Sing, boys, sing!

-swoon-

I think we'll be friends, eh?

(okay. now, onto the piece itself)

---

This is very much a rant. I don't live in England, so I don't know the specifics, but I think that discontent has the same taste and color everywhere. ((shame, shame.. but i never actually finished Steppenwolf. try not to let that ruin or new friendship, okay? :P Damien is my favorite. i'm trying to read Hesse's fairy tales, but they lack the depth and... YES!-ness of his novels. that, and everyone dies, which is kind of a downer))

'Literature Masturbation.
Regurgitation.
Breaking news castration.'

..not a big fan of the three-lined rhymes, but this is the only place you do it so I'll let it slide. Besides, it's really sharp and gets the section rolling like a mother.

'Ballot box in a manger.'

...democracy will be our savior? Like some miracle that will get rid of all our sins and we can be happy and make love and read Steppenwolf until we die, but we won't really die because deomcracy will have gotten rid of all of that, too...? Like that? Manger to me = Jesus. That's just the way it is.

Snippy. Delicious (slightly biased because of your references).

Thanks, mister.