Handcuff the pens and reams of paper!
Illegally detain the intangible conscience,
Ship it to Cuba, and ignore its rights
Death count buried by complacent media,
Folded flags behind the curtain,
Weeping widows and parents on page six
We're winning, we're winning!
But, strangely, gas prices rise,
And children, yes, children! get the third degree
Flinging mud across television waves,
Petty, both petty, but no viable third,
As always, whoever wins, we all lose
Now, fighting underground,
The sound, hellhound, the lost and found,
Shoe box of forgotten dolls and asthma breathers,
Fighting for scraps of rat,
The slow trickle from stalactites
That burn the tongue,
And dilated pupils emit their own glow,
Don't you know? The fiercest flow
Of messenger RNA hatred against collapsed veins,
The tattered lace, degenerate race,
Grimace before the solid rains
That beat upon the upper deck,
Balance the check, human leather vests,
Scrawls of charcoal on stone walls,
Failing tests, anapests, syntax, valence...
And whoever wins, we all lose.
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