Titicut Follies ‘The Forgotten Men’

the mentally ill are on parade

the criminally insane are on the stage

distortion shaped as humans 

satisfy the viewers delusions

who’s sick? who’s insane?

a man in a cage? or those filming his rage?

incarcerated, subordinated

all so carefully documented,

who’s sick? who’s insane?

a man who’s melancholic?

or those who keep him catatonic? 

therapeutics are administered

through the Cephalic vein, 

serenity’s a warm gun 

you’ll never feel again

who’s sick? who’s insane?

a man with a split personality? 

or those practicing depravity?

isolation leads to degradation,

those without a voice ask the mute for answers 

as a naked man dances in his own excrement

the mute screams helplessly 

“GOD I WISH SOMEONE WOULD HEAR ME”

a casualty of traumatising machinery,

the deaf aren’t ruined by verbal attack therapy

fear never leaves, it never lies

an overdose will be applied

leaving the necrophiliac tongue-tied, 

if needs must we’ll chemically 

castrate his lust, the tranquilised 

rarely make a fuss, they can’t get it up,

orgasm is an unfelt spasm,

Vladimir’s playing Tic Tac Toe again

using old chicken bones,

a child rapist plays jazz on a bent trombone

you’ve served your sentence

but you ain’t ever going home

who’s sick? who’s insane?

the forgotten men?

or those abusing them?