Our country is frozen in the filthy rich pit of a cultish Republicanism, a bunch of sick coyotes yakking the same chorus, “Kill to Win,” “Pray God for Stagnation.” “We’ll drown you in our own filth of hatred for the poor, the down trodden, the impotent, the sick, the helpless children and stressed families, the out of work, the over-burdened, the unserved, the abandoned class of the dwindling mainstream, screw you!”…
Don’t think about what’s inevitable, give it corn.
Give it a pint of cow dung, give it your underwear.
Not everything that’s inevitable is
You think the world’s coming to an end, give it the finger.
After all you’re not killing anyone, you’re not executing.
You’re just commenting. You have a right to choose what you say.
I’ve come back from the costume of my past & I’m inevitable.
And I’m not causing a little girl with flaming arm crying for help
to face the future you’ve given her: the power-mongers who
stick money up their ass & fart gas, are —
causing this war against the spirit, this war against the Earth
this war against the god of my parents…