Orgone TDM - Trawling the Depths

Excerpt:
Above them presides a double-sided icon:
A split, withering, iron pyrite face
The totem of our age
Before it they prostrate, implore and beseech
“Who can I become to please you?” or
“Grant me purpose where there is only woe”
Knowing that one should be all one can
Knowing that one should whimper, brood, then quip
In the depths of willful vacancy, “malignant uselessness”
Another drainagе ditch is dug
Sporing dignitaries, cerebral prostitutеs
Mercenaries, traffickers
Rabidly clamoring for access
To the advantageous crest of the tidal wave
To a cache of burning currency
To an island of maiming rocks
Chained, immolating Ixions
Cursed with eternal, unquenchable longing
Beneath the veneer of flesh and ego
They are feeble, emaciated thieves
Weeping in a reverberating canyon
In the lobby of a gutted skyscraper:
The price of cultivated deviance, the abdication of life
The narcotic allure of entropy