18 Digits
Buggin your millennium is it?  Afraid of the eighteen digits? 
Serial Killers, 
Stamp crooked lines that appear straight, 
continually numbering the living dead. 
18 numbers that have made 
a big impression 
on society. 
Electronic machine code 
causing binary to your desires. 
I got what you want with a tag on your toe 
to your forehead, 
that is, 
Capitalistic plastic chips. 
Digital death.
Watch bartering 
Martyring men die at the hand 
of time, 
machines. 
Desperate to see into the future. 
Slip through the stream to fulfill your dreams. 
Oscillate your scope 
As you tune into the wavelength 
of man versus plan. 
Hard drives drive a hard bargain. 
Ignorant consumers have become prototypes 
emptying their databanks to evolve. 
Microchip mayhem 
creates a complex as you crave 
the creation of graphically designed death traps. 
Handcuffed to handsets 
that remotely control the imagination. 
From play stations to space stations we all cue to play the game 
But you'll find that even when you've got money, you'll still get no credit. 
Surplus cities strive for capital 
As blind mice strive to become men, 
Chasing cheese in this racist rat race, 
still 
running from the butcher's knife. 
Run, run, run till your knees get numb 
From following citizens who 
Swallow this industrialized pill. 
High off Cybernarcotics cyber sets and cyber sex 
Fulfilling fourth grade fantasies. 
Malleable statistics chart a code 
that bars creation from being one instead of zero. 
Numbers imprinted into the subconscious portals 
Economic structures that desecrate mortals. 
Buggin your millennium is it? Afraid of the eighteen digits? 
Watch souls return to the living pit 
Giving all and not getting shit 
Sweating in the prison that enslaves all who visit it 
Punishing those who decide to critic it 
Poison those who live in it 
with iodine; 
To lower the tempers that boil like hot glue. 
OOOoo! 
The situation is sticky 
And everybody's picky, 
Picking up what they don't need 
Receiving Satan's hickey. 
The kiss of death left so many breathless. 
Single mothers breathless 
With no milk, 
Only powered SMA to feed their starving destiny 
Which has been artificially inseminated 
Into the belly of the beast. 
Buggin your millennium is it? Afraid of the eighteen digits? 
Buggin your millennium is it? Afraid of the eighteen digits? 
 

Poetree