Taking a stroll down Monopoly Boulevard.
I think I’ll pick up some “meat.”
I say hello to my local butcher ,
Mr. McDonald!
For a discounted receipt.

I’m so claustrophobic wearing 9 layers,
Of a grimy coat called hypocrisy.
Sweating out grease, it’s good for the skin,
As well as a Christian Democracy.

I pass a line of white picket fences, with crucifixes,
And my old friend Mary,
With eyes that judge piercing through the window,
At anyone willing to vary.

I pass the old couple rocking,
Sipping their synthetic tea,
And I see kids soaked in acid rain,
And society’s debris.

I get home, lock all my windows,
Deadbolt on the door.
Lay my gun under my pillow,
And get ready for another war.