Oh, sweet Agatha, don't start a row.
There's only one hell, the one we're in now.
We're probably dying, we just cannot speak. You blow your own brains out when coarse issues leak.
Careful I trained you to simply sit put. The fire'll burn faster, fill your lungs with soot.
It's probably okay, I probably don't care. I'll dish out contempt, my feelings ensnared.
Night Riders choking and lynching those who don't look the same as or think like they do.
Liberties failing the young and the old, getting shot down on Main St. "Can't do what they're told."
Televised stories of brainless assholes streaming in eye sockets of these young and old.
Refugees flocking into the night sky, the ocean is darkest when the stars do all die.
Full frontal idiocracy remains PG-rated. Mass contempt ignorance, it can't be related.
The apes are all smarter than we'll ever be. It hangs right above us, watching you plea.
YOU ARE READING
Bonobo
PoetryRevert to a primal state. The world was a better place before we could think.
