Villains

We set the scene

Edward Swafford

Jozef Cain

, and

Black Coffee Poetry

Feb 18, 2025

1×

0:00

-3:10

EDWARD’S READING ⬆⬆⬆

1×

0:00

-3:33

JOZEF’S READING ⬆⬆⬆

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

We SPIN the widowerhood
  world on our anti-hero axis, of equipoise?
    showstoppers, scene-stealers, sylphlike
      without us, pacifism bleeds
        seeping across martyry in crisscrossed
         crossed out Virtutis
           brace for bellicosity, our trademark gall
             CAN'T                        YOU                    SEE? 
               sheepish "my morals have meaning!!!!" 
                 civility pith from the curtsy changeling
                   masses...

Starstruck to be starkly stuck—struck ↓ down—  
Dirty deeds done dirt cheap; 
~clichéd phrases entice frowns~ 
innocent fan-fawning for attention… 
Fiending for holLOWed-out shells 
of human resemblance... 
Harrowed minds in pestilent perpetuance 

                Double nor nothing = we'll steal tripling 
               ⚡️⚡️⚡️THUNDER⚡️⚡️⚡️
                from whence comes in second comings
                of calamities center subliminal fugues
                struck twice, thrice, it's this visionless 
                VICE
                the vapid few watering hungry mouths
                delusion chews festoon fat of denialism
                don't doubt rulers, we make majorities

In habits, we watch with disdain, 
as they mark men, and women, like mutton;
and when they’ve divided,                                           
                                   subverted,                                                         
                                 inseminated                          
                                       HATE
no longer will they discriminate— 
our weapons were peaceful 
charity unspoken; 
too little, 
too late 

Yessssssss, and this deed is done 
sans hesitation hands sHaKiNg 
ennui empathy is best in class
narcissism is neoteric (?)
classicism is farcical (??)
so grip the wheel and heel it in 
fashion-forward 
thought-bubbled 
fascism-foiled 
splendor

Tradition | Culture: The High Ground ↑
from which duplicit spalpeens punch down ↓
we buy back our shadows
               pound for pound                                                                                                    
they sell 'em on every corner now;         
              We practice mastery
melting the iron fist, haphazardly… 
tables turn\ /woBble\ /and they all fall down 

         Catachresis control as a hushed murmur
      shh, can you deafen it?
    rehashed AND redacted saviors watch
  and pray, peer and pay, knaves cut through
Every. Pretty. Little. Echelon. Lie. 
  pardon our primacy 
   we burn as fucking verisimilitude votives
     exposing the exposé, ingénues eliciting one
       FINAL ACT

                                                  )CHAOS(
                             Pour the Kool-aid for yourselves
                         don't forget to tip—We're waiting…         
                                   Poor fucks mimic lemmings 
   blindly running for the cliff—Little playthings                   
                                           we laugh uncomfortably 
                                           inappropriately? 
                         at the absurdity of control's futility