To peddle-spread hateful ideas
for those ignorant, well shaped ears,
I’ll give my soul and principles
I get paid
if I write about interest rates
or incite racial hatred,
means the same to me
the same commute,
the same sheets and pillow
the same hollow darkness
that saw me lost
I get one chance in fat font
to grab the weary and scared
so I’ve gotta make it count
Where’s the sweet spot
that I can tap with a
keyboard shaped geology hammer
and bust out the fossilised feelings?
My skill is to polish and shine
‘til their thoughts are mine
to sell with ill intentions
and a voucher for money off a burger
