Happiness is a Warm Gun

Happiness is a Warm Gun

I see her face with a forced smile cleaning her self. Why? I think I know why. This is Vegas after all. Danger lurks not in dark corners by close by. Her eyes make me cry. Her smile chills me to the bone.

The Musician and Death are by her side. Is this the Mexican Lottery game that I used to play as a kid with family. That time of the evening when the lights went out because of the rain. Playing after dinner with my brother, my aunts, and uncles around the living room coffee table. With many candles illuminating the night. We laughed and ate the popcorn that we used as placemarks.

Has corporate America made sure that we the people are dependent on what drugs they inject our food with? Are we taking to much heroin or opiates? I think so. Mega companies erected and held together by needles and pain killers. I think I am close to being that statistic. Are you sure you’re not?

Money and greed surround us like waves of the ocean. Withdrawing into the sea of nothingness and slamming us with the froth of white bubbles made from toxic waste and debris. We take the pounding because we don’t do anything about it. Why? We were not taught to fight for our rights. 

Above our sky is ever and forever. We are here on the flat earth as I’m told floating randomly in the cosmos. Our blood is now on the moon and we have only ourselves to blame. Why? Because we allowed it. We bleed because we don’t know that we have a choice.


What do you see in Fernando Reyes’ art? 
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