The boat horn blares.
  The good nun swears.
  Passengers all stared.
  Mr. Ripley never cared.

Huge golden retriever runt of litter
chasing ***** just not his thing.
He chases squirrels they disappear
in terror of the conquering king.

Vincent's fingers paint skies
full of mad midnight stars
we'll recognize our lies
still try to hide our scars.

Crossing Texas I hear
a voice on my AM radio
sounded like gramps.
A comfort to hear truth
about DC's gaslighting.
He faded in the thunder.
I turn the dial all day
on my way to wonder.
We need his voice
guide us to rejoice.

How do we survive
ugly teenage jive?
Fight the *******
with wicked wit.

Selfish words born
  from a wanting womb.
  Crying for attention.
  Seeking a final tomb.

The Elites never had enough
pieces of our pitiful existence.
They ****** our blood from us
in their entitled rich persistence.
We were just  lab animals to them
always testing mad god science.