Say, I don’t say, won’t say, it’s not
that I can’t say, it’s that I won’t be
complicit to a night robbing a mare. 

If I could place an X everywhere 
I see that face, I would, but sci-fi
won’t let me do it. Too terrifying.

The ability to destroy someone’s 
presence by virtue of technology, 
a ghost I don’t want to wake up
if we are unable to care for all. 

With such ethics, I’m embraced 
by a dilemma. Can’t stand, can’t 
hear, can’t bare a human stench 
so vile that destroys the truth 
for sake of an apparent success.

If I don’t say, won’t say, it’s not
that I can’t say, it’s that I won’t 
be a victim of Newspeak, don’t say, 
won’t say blah, blah, blah, it’s just

pOpCoRn SpEaKiNg. 

But it is there, stealing science,
denying facts, selling narratives,
lies are groomed for self-serving 
greedy ischemic bats, can’t see, 
won’t see, it’s not that they can’t 
see. If the bat can't feel, it doesn't 
exist. I’ve seen it before, behind 
an imaginary wall, itch scarring,
robbing bling bling for a nada nada
worth zip without air, water, bees. 

Say, I don’t say, won’t say, it’s not
that I can’t say, it’s that I won’t be
enslaved for a cent from a liar’s lair.

Instead, could we allow our stems
to grow until they breathe health? 

In just ice. 

Bats don't care. Bastard artist,
worth nada nada, has zero bling
bling, aficionado, force $ blind. 

Boo hoo, wasted breath, two-timed. 

SuRe, pOpCoRn SpEaKiNg. 


SuRe, pOpCoRn SpEaKiNg. 

I don’t care what's being said
if it's nonsense, don't let
nonsense rule what you believe. 

Call it bad art, throw it away. 

Yet hope it'll reach the caves 
where bats have built a nest.

Even when the art becomes dung,
repeat in vain until indelibly
exceptional it enlightens them. 

From here to there, do say, what
has to be said, repeat and rinse,
not because it's all you can do. 

It’s because you've felt the stench 
of sewage palpitating beside hope,
lived in caves afraid of the light,
have cleaned squalid sadness, have 
buried the dead until madness has
won you over, have been forgotten 
over and over again until history
regrets it has to repeat itself in 
divergent faces, same consequences.  

And you, having read what happened
decide to prevent it from becoming
an eternal recurrence of the hatred. 

I need           What do you need?

an eternal recurrence of the kind. 

I need           What do you need?

the facts to be aligned with a justice 
that isn’t blind but knows after hefty
study what could happen if we don’t 
start shifting our cares from la bling
bling worth nada nada to the worthy: 

bees, oceans, glaciers, seeds, trees, 
a me and a you that won’t kill what  
is true for a nada nada, bling bling, 
la la la with some pOpCoRn nearby. 

Hear it pOp, what to say to nonsense
that replies to nonsense with nothing
but the same nonsense until meaning
doubts there’s no sense but a non? 

Don't tire what you've got to say. 
Spend in meanings, not in feelings. 

If it's pOpCoRn SpEaKiNg, politely 
say: No, thank you. I’m quite full
and I won't address that nonsense

Signature Lina Ru