Zak Billmeier




Feel it slipping again

Slipping to the fugue in Catatonia.

Languid and listless,

A ringing in the ears.

No surprise or safety;

Just what is to what matters most.

Faintly optimistic and vertically striped

Predominantly white and serene.

Music playing not too loud

Just melts through the skull

And cools the soul.

Hair stands on end

Face feels hot

Relaxed at last.

Visual recovery is slow but the audio is intact

As the sink begins to gel

And the groove begins to shine.

The melt is on.

A heightened feeling

          of a stereophonic kinesphere;

An amoebic force field of expanding and contracting dimensions.

Rubber, gelatin, plasticene and silicone implants.

Circles and squares and wrinkled rigidity dominate the ringing fog

          and tingling limbs.




“Something for Nothing”


The American Dream

Streets paved with gold,

Where hard-working men and women

Live comfortable lives as

   A just reward for their dedication and toil.


Where talent is rewarded with riches,

And men with new ideas are hailed as heroes.

Where you always eat turkey and apple pie

And you drive your big Chevrolet

Down to the fishing hole

And a ballgame on the radio.


Are you telling me that’s what Americans dream of?

Not on your life

The American Dream always has been

And always will be

Something for nothing.


We play the numbers

We rob banks

We bet large sums on races between beasts


Yeah, something for nothing.

You’re only in it for the money.


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