Tye-dying tycoons
With the blood on their hands
They deceive us,
Then leave us,
The really Bad Lands
Still abandoning kids
As if
Domestic terror,
To hawk and dove
F-22’s of a feather
All silent on climate
In inclement weather
All wires and viruses’
Six second tethers
To whether or not
There’s an ocean on fire,
A sickened sphere
Nearing
Its next Dallas Buyer
To coax the illusion
Of culture supreme
Propagating its art
Like the seed in the stream
So concede all your dreams
To the fascist fact-actory
Watch the facade of god
Build the ol’factory
Sense of the dollars and cents
In the hacking spree,
Even your stocks
Aren’t safes
When the state
Has already cracked codes
Of your mind,
Calculate