Michael Gouge:
CLASS OF 1999
Ft. Campbell High SchoolClass of 1999
Ft. campbell, KY
Michael's Story
Life
graduated austin peay with philosophy b.a.
unemployed. broke. planning on dying the great american death.
writing like a maniac
benziodiazepine freedom
a poached egg mind rolling across the formica to spill upon the floor
golden harvest wasted on the the linoleum misery
shimmering beautiful as a sunrise it jiggles and begins to dry
so much time weighs against our backs
hunched over with the encumbering load we bear from history the hopes and fears spread against our toasted little minds, metaphysical butter that somehow leaves us tastless, cigarette oleo, we gave up smoking but we haven't kicked the cancer habit yet.
beats, hippies, yippies, punks, grungies, ravers, counterculture smoothies sucked down like so much electric koolaid, but we've found no enlightenment only envy, we spy across these past decades, searching somewhere in our time for that wild freedom, that immense beingness that seems to have been rejected with every outlet mall, every concrete sephuchural sanctuary of commerce, pass the collection plate around full of credit cards and let us clense our plastic souls from this ennui for a momentary burst of pleasure before the great regret calls us anon to our birth, our guilt our scream we ever silence.
pancake makeup politicians bite into the syrupy soul of america and it tastes flat.
flaccid monday eyelids stare up at a sky so grey it seems yellow.
mundane junky lifestyle television mass denial, it took no time to get us here from there, it means nothing in retrospect just a grea...Expand for more
t big empty that shines out from tommorow and the time time time just disapates before its own force an acid wave of immense porptions eradicating all life in its desperate urgency to get to wherever it seems to be going the white rabit with no party to attend, the clock is broken the watch keeps on ticking the hands free of their masters they strangle us every minute, second cruetly of a first rate, tell me now again when this depression will end, death is the healer of all things, time i thought you said, well time is death and death is time it doesn't matter anymore we've run out of both the atom bomb will cleanse the sin from your soul american martyr stand and shout and scream that equality has been found it took nothing more than einstein rocket science and good old rotton humanity.
there is no light at the end of it all just more end more all. spiraling spirals we find ourselves where we never began it took my mind a moment to wrap around it but till i choke on my own dust i'll never quite understand.
let the silence wail on, that black trumpet of night screaming and screeching, searching for that high last note that will bring the whole sky shattering down.
clinical society still waiting at the office. fluroscent sex drones on mechanical dreamers searching for that six second solace at the end of it all, the death orgasm, the hot one, heavy and horrid, it seems to stink that sweet perfume of sin and stupid flesh, the alienation of will...
it all came to nothing. but remember how beautiful it once was?
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