Dwelling in the body like rot, is the lie;
A steaming, squalid, soupy sludge
Hiding from the truth like addiction-
Heaving, raging for a nickel scratch,
Ready to kill, or blow, or steal, or die!
Count to 34 and put in order, your grave,
The lies always come back, run you through
And slip behind the truth like a startled child;
Clutching at her hem, face buried within,
Ready to cry, or shout, or stamp, or escape!
Your collapse has been swift of corruption,
A train rolling into an intolerant station,
Enrooted on the people’s slow-repugnance;
In harmony with the fierce mallet of justice
Letting slip your slimy clutch of deception!
Now it seems you’re due for the Enron-train,
A heaving weight of lie’s humiliating brace!
Bow your heads and march along you thieves;
No more hiding from the truth. Withdrawals
The methadone taper; 34mg of clean hell!
Copyright © 2006 mrp
