Rusty strings on a pre-renaissance harp play as if they were never tuned so sweetly
And blood on your tongue never tastes the same as unadulterated defeat

The cuticle, the knife, revival and intuition

Listening with your eyes is much harder with your ears turned up at full volume

The sounds beat against my cornea like a mosaic of frost

The tune is familiar, the drive is peculiar; and the living love the loss

Present day excess becomes tomorrow’s fated illustrious distress

Chaos Theory never seems to mind the banality of the modern disinterest
And sure as god is dead, Nietzsche knew best—

Get real, start to feel

We have lift off?
It is supposed to get easier, as time goes, we all laugh at the madness
But is it? Can it all be so simple, death and repeat? Repetitive indifference

Last time I bought gas, it was a religious experience
Just like websites are a religious experience at three in the morning

The new mecca is Digg.com and I haven’t seen one worshiper bitch or moan
Get thee to a nunnery and forgive me for saying

It is useless praying

I need to start appreciating my youth

The mind, never makes clear how fragile the state of youth truly is

We are  level headed , dead, living, decomposing monsters of the night

Graves are dug to shelter the corpse

Houses are built to enhance our remorse

Jeff Klepper

The quick fix
The stubborn mind
The redundant call of the religious and blind

McDonalds sure tastes good after a day of martyrdom
And it tastes even better after a 5 star dinner at Outback Steak House

It is all revolving doors and smokey kissed caverns
I can just barely remember the purpose of these legs and arms

The more we reveal the more we conceal, the days run into years, just as they promised

The evidence is abundant, we are trapped, like solvent on an acid
Like a god without his stories

Even the doomed have a reception to welcome them in
Just be sure you made reservations well in advance

You wouldn’t want to be left out

Jeff Klepper

People get so worked up about substance abuse
But people are constantly lacking substance

Then again, what else is new, in this paradox called life?
Wake up; retreat back into our heads for security

Gold is increasingly more valuable, but the color itself is becoming dull to me
It must be a symptom of the post traumatic stress disorder from 9/11 or Michael Jacksons death

Surely, I will figure out what caused my relationship with the cosmos, soon
It is best viewed in letter box, the cosmos, the stretch screen

Never does it justice

Remind the innocent that tides don’t change
They shift
And worlds don’t collide
They rift

But hell is where the attention stays

Broken grays and reds cloud the endless haze

We capture moments with words and eyes

And we kill with canonized lists

Devil, devil, be my bride, wake me up in time for work
I confused you with my wrist watch, time is abstract, a mail clerk

Let the sun set on the ripples on the pond, an honest shadow, an honest fern

The trees posture, much like we do, when we don’t get our turn

God asked for this, so I gave him a list
Who wouldn’t oblige in these trying times?

1) Bring the massacre to the people, we wouldn’t want them to miss out

2) Kiss the children’s heads with empty stomachs and bloated bellies

3) Adopt a new set of beliefs altered specifically for you by those least educated

4) Stop reading this list and question your entire life, it is time to feel something besides ambiguity and confusion

5) Listen to music

And finally get to a hospital and turn in your pills for something a little less likely to cause schizophrenic episodes

You said, where for art thou new?
And I forgave the failed attempt to renew

But the flesh and mind never seem to rhyme
And I know you were full of it most of the time

I trust in my own system of deduction
A maladjusted form of destruction

Cling to the old, for the present are never good enough
I just wish I had not taken things so rough

Respect the moon like you respect your shoes
To list your nearest relatives gets difficult with age

Good thing you did commercials when you were young because you know you’re social
And god knows, it’s good to be a social boy and girl with perfect teeth

But respect the air, its poisoning you, but respect it
Break the code, it not as difficult as it sounds
There is no one to love when you are too rich for Taco Bell at two in the morning

Lonesome words are just unkempt sentences ready to be reworked for publishing
So tear out the wires and restart the computer
We have months of lies to sort through, so start with the last email you sent
It is always the best place to reclaim your self esteem

Reboot and scream something unrecognizable
The computer will know just what you mean

As we said in Nam, “Charlie it is going to be a while”
Be rest assured your local preacher is no longer a pedophile
I checked, Twice, in fact!

As I write this I recover the words I have meant to write months before
Shallow pools, muddled with consequence remind me not to ask for more
I knew it was too good to be true when I heard intelligence drip from your lips
And regrets are nothing short of monolithic period pieces set atop alters wrecked across ships

It is a new age, a cyber one at that, so please remember to keep your virus software up to date

We wouldnt want you to catch a trojan cold, or worse, a full on case of the hard drive wipes

I will leave you with this, a painting of some half wit genius, so develop like the photos of the dying days of your past, just remember not to lighten your load too fast