Metaguild Manifesto

We are emblematic of the enigmatic,
mating creations evading relations,
capturing, constructing, releasing, revealing.
Cutting out a letter here,
shutting up, a longing stare,
shouting out clear and bare:
shed a tear, rip a tear,
cut it up, there is no repair
for a numb clit, dumb shit.

Aligning with signs that bind,
we spout in black against this light.
We fight with words in flight over contextual fright,
the runaway freight of consensual, conventional might.
We damn straight and far right.
We fuck off and gun fights.
We wake in sleep, die alive,
bleeding gradations seep astray:
sticks shift, stones stick,
food feeds, floats weep
outside asleep at the rainy creep parade.

We recklessly play in trash heaps today
adrift in the necklace cosmos,
sensing vents in the text, citing the trace,
venting the text in a sense. We cannot erase
in haste, hiding our unforeseen waste
in faceless places where the lens resorts to aquamarine;
resorts, debased, to a sound bite race
to raise a flag and a toilet, to clean
the shirt store's dirt poor and keep the dirty unseen;

Resorts to a thong and its whispered song
in a well-creased airplane magazine,
a meaningless sarong suspended in space
like an arbitrary planet or an unplanned tangerine:
a juicy, orange phenomenon.
We think, therefore we are wrong.
We cannot be. Wander on,
curious friends, and welcome
to the metaguild. It is what it is.
(Smack!)

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Note: The Metaguild was conceived without prior knowledge of the the World of Warcraft MetaGuild. The author of the above manifesto and all the content on this site has no affiliation with, nor knowledge pertaining to, World of Warcraft. This disclaimer has been placed here primarily in hopes that World of Warcraft aficionados will stumble upon the enlightening ideas propagated by this Metaguild. Enough said.