Fever tickles your forebrain
Bad thoughts dribble down your nose
Like syrup off my fingertips
Coughing up cheaply made lies
And selling them for the price
Only minimum wage parasites can ****
The propaganda of self pity
Fogging up your vision
Like car windows stained with
Frustrated ******* (or *******)
Sliding straight down your legs
Where your tongue is heavy
Too depressed to form a sentence
Yet thirsty enough to swallow
Thirteen million restless presents
Scrambling around
Clawing their way up the back
Of your throat
Where the sun sets pink
between your teeth