poetry critical

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this is what its come to:
five televisions turned on
all with the same shit.
i'm lead to believe in some political figure
to dream good dreams of his likeness.
i'm lead to return to the holy bible
in search of my old self, my oldest self.
i dream of being lost, not knowing.
i'm lead into a pyramid scheme
and i am happy to do it.
new clothes.
dead dreams.
dead dog, sick cat.
i don't like it one bit.
who've i wronged?

10 Oct 08

(define the words in this poem)
(88 more poems by this author)

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what happen to you? you use to be able to convey five televisions in one word, hang shit oozing dreams to our waking eyes, gave me a reason to unzip.

give me the okcomputer words that bisect, and disect, give me red monkey.
 — unknown