"funded" poems
May I present a challenge?
Imagine if you will
You have created a flying explosive device
And it needs a name that will thrill.
A name, a good name, which name?
Well, none of those below.
Some twisted suits have already used them.
**** EVEN Tacit Rainbow.
What really goes through their minds?
As they sit and discuss the name
Of their creation that's destined to ****
Butcher, destroy and maim.
Just try if you can
To read the whole of this edited list
Imagine how many have exploded of each
With out angrily clenching your fist
Little John
Honest John
Hellfire
Matador
HARM
Terrier
Nike-Ajax
Corporal
Sea Sparrow
Redstone
Bullpup
Mace
Nike-Hercules
Regulus II
Atlas
Thor
Lacrosse
Jupiter
Quail
Hawk
Tartar
Falcon
Polaris
Hound Dog
Pershing
Entac
Firebee
Shelduck
Jayhawk
Cardinal
Firefly
Petrel
Redhead/Roadrunner
Redeye
Mauler
Skybolt
Nike Zeus/Spartan
Condor
Phoenix
Typhon MR
Falconer
Overseer
Taurus
Kingfisher
Cardinal
Walleye
Hornet
Maverick
Big Q
Minuteman
Blue Eye
Viper
Firebolt
Bulldog
Harpoon
Focus
Perseus
Firefly
Stinger
Compass Dwell
B-Gull
Agile
Seekbat
Delta Dagger
Thunderbolt[7]
Patriot
Aquila
Teleplane
Streaker
Tomahawk
Firebrand
Roland
Peacekeeper
Penguin
Pave Tiger/Seek Spinner
Sidearm
Skipper
Wasp
Sea Lance
Ripper[7]
Trident II
Midgetman
Tacit Rainbow
Pave Cricket
Have Nap
Peregrine
Exdrone
Javelin
Pointer
Hunter
Coyote
Skeeter
Outlaw
Wow, you're still reading
And you've managed not to throw up.
Just wondering how many innocent victims
Of a tax funded device called Bullpup.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC
The rich will always be rich,
Computers, clean body, nice clothes,
Proper homes, not shacks.
Elite schools, branded
Motorcycles, jewelry
The poor will always be poor,
A pen, a marvel
Firewood, abandoned train tracks
YMCA funded classes,
Hand-me downs, nakedness
Grandfather, father,
Son. Same lineage, same burden
To pass down
Generation
To
Generation
To
Generation.
A Never-ending cycle
Cruel game of Russian roulette,
Spin the revolver, watch it
Turn, pick it up, iron to temple
--BANG BANG-- you're dead.
The more the rounds, the
More
Lethal
It
Gets
It is a gap that cannot
Be plugged,
A boulder that cannot be put down,
Like Atlas holding the sky,
If released, the sky and earth
Collide, and we die--
All of us.
Everyone.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
You’re not Pro-life, just Pro-Forced Birth
Despite proclaiming loudly
On signs accusing, ******
To one in three women, proudly
You’re not Pro-Life, but Anti-choice
And Anti-women, too
Shutting down Planned Parenthood is
A War on Women’s coup
Your Pro-Birth stance is but a sham
Backwards in time, you’re swimming
Saying Jesus is your Lamb while
Cutting aid for pregnant women
I saw you there, in Salem, too
Pointing, declaring them WITCHES
Burned alive by your testimony
Betraying and damning your SISTERS
My mother used to say self praise
Was not really praise at all
How can you say you’re Pro-Birthers
Causing WIC funding to fall?
The schools that once were funded
Providing breakfast for hungry kids
Was cut-yet congress spends like Spartans
Government sold to the highest bids
Sixty percent of our money
In good ole USA
Goes straight to the military
And I demand a say!
‘Health’ gets only five percent
And ‘Education’ six
Yet that’s where congress goes
To cut funding to the quick
You shut down Planned Parenthood with
Dishonest screams and shouts…
Support Accidental Parenthood-
Is that what you’re about?
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 2:41 PM UTC
Today's world is not as it seems,
Cancer now comes in packs of twenty
And our idea of food is a burger with twenty-percent meat,
And NO-ONE cares or thinks for themself
Ones worth is measured only in wealth
The children are hungry,
Our veterans ignored
Hunger for money and lust for oil brought us war,
Ukraine in "crisis" and MH370 missing,
The C.I.A. funded Isis we just won't believe it,
So put down the phone and open your eyes,
Realize
Real Eyes
Real Lies
It shouldn't take a genius to see this
So I will not forgive,
I'll NEVER forget,
about 9/11 or Israel's daily blank check
Because we fund their wars with Gaza and more
We bomb the Mosques,hospitals and more
We've been deceived,shammed,tricked and lied to,
So ask yourself,who am I?
Who are you?
We're the awoken ones with SO much left to do
Open your eyes and simply wake
Wake the **** up for our children's sake
Sometimes I just think about things,
What will our children's future bring?
Will there be one at all or won't it exist?
Open your eyes
Realize
And think about it
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
Devil's downstairs
at the neighbors
lil'
hole in the wall.
We're just sitting
ducks
in a government funded
housing pond.
& I'm too afraid
to sleep.
In my own slum.
Thank you, for ruining my life.
Jul 12, 2012
Jul 12, 2012 at 1:57 PM UTC
Sustenance for friends and clients;
state your case – come one, come all.
The matron arms of Social Service
will not let you fall.
Food stamps make our nation stronger,
licked, then stuck on the public roll.
Social programs last much longer
adding recipients on the dole…
Like the Ephesian Diana
many are my benefits!
Mine the matriarchal manna;
latch and suckle at my teats.
Yours the client’s right to nurture.
Mother will supply your need;
Child, you must not fear the future –
feed, my baby, feed.
Call me nanny, call me Lord
just make sure you’re calling on me.
Mine are the gifts you can afford
they’re taxpayer-funded, worry-free!
Once you are latched I’ll keep it flowing
like an intravenous habit.
Keep that ****** situated
where your will can never grab it
Let it never cross your mind
that there’s an end to all lactation.
Cloward-Piven have refined
this titillation.
Love me. Need me. I’m the State.
Your well-being is my affair.
With your consent I’ll dominate,
because I care.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:07 PM UTC
Once upon a time, a long time ago
There was a little boy with a grimy flow
I used to hear him rap in Chicago everyday
And this is what I heard him say…….
He say **** like, he be like….
Ah! and I'm a *********** biter
The size of the incises inside ya might surprise ya
You might need rewind to decipher my cyphers
Ain't nothing on this world worth more than my saliva
I go so hard when I'm flowing
So cold my flows frozen
I'm a rowboat rowing in an open ocean
And I'm hoping, to blow up with no promotion
But dam, those explosions are so slow motion
So, I need some honey bees to pollinate my money trees
Cause fuckery of companies, accompanies that come between
A couple bucks and me, turned my orange juice to Sunny-D
Hide the cash for food stamps, no way i'm funded publicly
I'm hungry, but not for sandwiches I'm ambitious
A panhandler with gram plans and last wishes
Ask for the last table scraps you can't finish
Sell em back when you digest, and I repackage it
Abracadabra, I'm an alchemist, my magic tricks are acting as contaminates
I damage this establishment
They enacted bans on urban camping
If you ask them how they sleep at night the answer is
Happily on mattresses
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
Oh, politicians and people in general.
Are an amazing lot to witness.
Especially with their opinions.
Some attack cause to be heard.
Others because of others words.
Bringing up remove this or that because a program is federally funded.
And if that should ever happen.
Planned Parenthood somehow will continue to be funded.
To many wealthy folks simply seek a reason to support.
Which is what all of us does?
This group will keep on striving.
Even if you disagree with their purpose.
For one to totally agree in life.
Only means, you doesn't address your own problems.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 9:00 AM UTC
Finger soldered brilliant new gold band
proudly circling nuptial sun
orbiting eclipsing the clans
completing a family connexion
with others ovoid chipped but fondly funded
wearing thin on hardened blue veined hands
some waving some proclaiming all belonging.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC
Casually caressing
the comedy of life
A child knows not
tragedy’s strife.
There is always another dream
toy or friend
for their fetal-esteem.
They spell their grammar
with candy and curiosity
while maintaining a history
in smile and laughter.
The heroism of Joe
the G.I.
and the beauty of a Barbie
are created impulsively and
fueled by imagination and apple juice.
A bike is not
a means of transportation
but rather
meant to be raced and jumped.
Scooby-Doo
and the ****** Tunes should
rule Saturday mornings
from their throne in the tube.
Monkey bars and playgrounds,
are not merely a facility
to upkeep physical activity.
Instead
it is a kingdom of escape
engineered by make-believe
funded by risk-taking
and motivated by the
eradication of the cootie-plagued
and ****** pickers.
Where did time go,
when these bones grew old
this brain grew dull
and these hands lost their callus?
The world is cruel
for the elder mind.
Yet, for our youthful kin,
Society does not exist
in coloring books
and world peace is only found
in imagination and apple juice.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC
"You're ******* your life away Bobby," screamed Auntie Abhaya in her native tongue. Malayalam has many nuances and maybe a better translation is, "lightning currents from your privates and blast River Ganga, streaming your soul away." Dravidian poetics go as such and Auntie Abhaya seemed to have quite dramatic flare. In any case, cousin Bobby was once again, drunk. Auntie Ay, as we lovingly referred to her, in her fearless way, was having nothing of it. Worse yet, seems Bobby had funded his ****** with rupees stolen from Auntie Chhaya's purse. A storm of tears she was, in the corner of the humble hut they all resided in, in Kerala.
Kerala's backwaters wash in from the Arabian Sea. Tropical delicacies abound; markets filled with fish, pineapple and coconut groves, and an array of spice that keep the main agricultural commerce of India most enticing to the rest of the world. Yet, life earnings are hard and for some hard habits easy to pick up. This was truest in Bobby's case, though he did try and try to make his family proud.
As I was only a guest in this loving but burdened home, and recognizing a family crisis at hand, I and my traveling partner put forth finances lost to ensure our safe return to Mumbai north in Maharashtra and not embarrass our host family any longer. Though we had touched a Garden of Eden, the lesson of banishment was still at hand.
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 9:13 AM UTC
*(Blackened tissue beside debris of bleachd cocktail
Power pundit in cubicle
A ship in shadow-pieces passing by, unnoticed*
smoking water.. now costs getting kickd out ur xafe
Your blood lies in a high-account and all the stampz areMelting
Crawling in a desert, accusations shave the top off my black land
Did failing the test lead to a power-packed punch in strands
No time for treagedies clogging up the freeway
Twenty watts up the waterfall and your ride is here
Befits a ceremonial decapping
Catch ur vogue latte on the way out
Come aboard by jet and then expect a red carpet, soaked dry from the spoils of erstwehile-smugglers
Let em bleed green notes till the moths all come round the flame
Wait for it… the flame grows hugher… and int it all…………poof!
That was easy.
Don’t chuckle out loud when expletives slidie down your back
Like champagne off the shoulder of your ne-xt planet’s ride
Duck in time cos the butters hard and the toast is dry
Four friends over six decades carry grudges heavey enough to pump oil to lakes
And the unexpected happens.. the one they didn’t watch, wwent missing
All eyes on the little one.. no, you didn’t catch them all.
You became immunes to the skills you advert-tarted and sqeueamish set in
you didn’t know casn host violence in a putrid-robe?
One finger pointing out, makes at least three in.. to the pointer
How can one planet swallow so wide a dichotomy in plasticky degrees?
It’s too wide this time to make that jump – we will ingest what weve been giving all along
And some end up well-funded while others simply dwell.. as frogs in a well.
sun can climb in sometimes, but for half an hour
their fingers are small for the mine, keep small the issue
don’t cry when it rains in expectorata
I think frogs can swim.
*when do I ever learn that..
I am simply a frog in a well
near craxks )*
21feb
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 6:49 AM UTC
for Barton Smock
I
to see the flooding lake I crawl
through the thicket
I imagined
being the devil’s
garden
as a child
a lake
I first called
blue prison
but now
love
after swimming
lessons grandmother
funded
II
squatting arsonists occupy
the town’s church
during weeknights
I am one of four who knows
*When it burns
I'll steal the stoup*
III
I dream rarely and only in naps
waking,
I try restraining
fantasies of
faceless women
IV
rainstorms brake
the lake’s edges,
muddy the bankside flowers,
leave the canal sullied
forever
looking on, I
recall
generosity
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 2:44 PM UTC
Is back..
It gives you a smile a mile wide to see Gypsy John is back
Gypsy John with cart, horse and dog by his side
People call from far and wide to deliver parcels of food for Gypsy John and his crew.
Gypsy John sets up camp in the middle of the road, on what's called a roundabout.
Gypsy John is getting old and sits around a camp fire to warm his cold bones and cook his food.
Gypsy John does not like favours and takes his food begrudgingly, instead he will work all day for his pay, locals find him work indoors.
When one cold winter came, locals crowd funded to buy him a new cart, his horse was retired as very old, £12000 was raised to keep Gypsy John and his animals well.
Gypsy John comes with the change of season as summer turns to fall.
Gypsy John is a reminder and reason to us all to keep going work hard and live long.
Long live Gypsy John.
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 5:45 AM UTC
Lady,
lady,
lady,
It made no sense then
and still I'm at a lack.
Those days I'd read and fall asleep,
take the cheap warmth of the sun on my cheeks
(and literacy) for granted, then
wake to a sunburn on my back.
Aloe evenings, peeling loose skin
revealing goose-flesh, feeling foolish
again, by my garden
on my deck
off my guard
and lonely.
Heck, this is only one instance where I had chills that summer
Another was under the orange glow of a poorly funded lighthouse,
Us there - just sitting - perched
on my car, parked
on
a
slope
West River lay ahead and below -
Behind were the kinds of smiles and glances
people give before they know
each other and the chances
of where they both may go
So,
I took my time
not giving a ****
despite the dame's insistence
on a kiss the tourists planned -
Too many instants
spent looking, fearing leaping
peering,
keeping
distance
sparse.
Alas, a tour de farce?
Thanks to pop-rocks when our lips touched
we chuckled at the sparks
Lip gloss
Then my loss of control
Utterly unable to console
Is it any wonder the cunning fox we saw just wandered home?
With this rhetoric I am ready to admit that
I lack(ed) certainty
Was the mist real or is't only foggy in my memory?
In hindsight I do mind causing pain
Though my brain,
it sure likes hurting me
And lo,
À l'acadie we go
...for academia!
My ego can't stand seein' ya
so the strained "Hello" is ignored -
Please impale it on the sword
of vanity and estrangement!
As I sway toward derangement
or insanity, I lurch forward
lacksidaisically
Need to learn to curb these feelings
to watch out for those of others
As the sun or lighthouse over us
this message resolutely hovers:
I hurt
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
American
Whiteness
the greatest mental illness of all time
even before they were diagnosed
the world has become safer
because the world finally
has funded a wall around America
a padded room institution
where the dissociative disorder
can destroy itself
and not everyone else in the process
the casual crisis
is an emergency
whiteness the coup d’état
is wreaking havoc
on the human soul
domesticated whiteness
riskiest to do business with
spilling blood all around the world
quarantine the biohazard
whiteness on its journey of impunity
when my family was most vulnerable
to the morbid lust
of the mental illness of whiteness
we gently genocidally refer to as social construction
which is really the deconstruction
of the black human
and the origins of humanity
American
American built by the pieces of my family
glued and mortared by the blood and sweat
spilled from them
the most dangerous deconstruction site
in the world
biological warfare
spewing
leaking
uncontrollably
contaminating humanity
polluting its evolution
at war with symbiosis
for the purity of fascism sake
a coup d’état called American whiteness
which is also been a long
untreated dissociative disorder
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 10:20 PM UTC
Billions to fund a campaign
But, there's no money to educate the young brains
Billions to fund a campaign
But there's no funding for those that strain
Are billions really needed to win?
Would it not be easier to speak from your heart with an honest smile
And not a sinister grin?
Re-distribution of wealth?
I don't want a hand out
Just a little compassion
And free health
We don't want to chose between life, or food on the table
When emergency health costs our rent check
We chose the latter
And hope we remain stable
Oh, I forgot we're forced to pay for it now
When we can't afford to buy groceries
It slithered in as a "tax"
And I bet the healthcare corporations had nothing to do with this atrocity
Other countries do it and flourish
But we're so scared of that ***** word
Even though it's been used to benefit and nourish
Their sick and their fertile
Some can't even afford
To pay for the necessities
But your rich friends take our hard earned money
And you give them lavish subsidies
Tax less the rich
And more the working man and woman
Because our lives don't mean a thing
We're just ants to which you burn
You're funded by the private
The unspoken
Yet we work until we are battered
We sweat until we are broken
Some can't afford to pay for dinner
But yet you take away our homes
You leave us cold and weathered
Humiliated and alone
There is no justice
It was blind, but now it's six feet under
Raise her from her grave
Lift her veil, so she can see the blunder
This poem is imperfect
But so are all we
You think you know what is best
But it's not best for this land of the free
You're turning it into a prison
Where the lies are the warden
Trapped inside is the truth
Everyday it's ***** and broken
Take heed your actions
And think hard of your decisions
You have a nation as your child
Raise us right and hold an honest vision
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 5:38 AM UTC
Give a little bit of my Shangri La
back to me.
Lets recall the 99p Scotch best at JD Weatherspoons,
revisiting Bradford by National Express
because we saw "Bob Sue and Rita too" on Channel 4
and on a whim had to have
B&B; down Manning Lane.
Let's see tea shops show civic pride
serving a strong Bergamont.
No queue jumping,
spitting or cussing in the streets.
Lets not be afraid to care,
and go back to the early 1990s
on the cusp of the Premiership
to see Notts County verses Luton Town.
Their six pointer
with an overturned milk float to presage the desperation
and long before the aerobic internet entertained us.
Funded Public libraries
venturing openings on Sunday's
and thank Steg from
Scorpion records at High Wycombe,
grateful for all those post restantes.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
Man's love of money...
I love it too. It results in
Food, drink and shelter
For my loved ones. But...
On days when my back
Won't straighten properly,
When my carpenter's elbow, rugby
Knee and boxer's hands
Impair me
I ask myself
How many hours I've worked
To pay just
Interest.
How many banker's cigars
And Department of Finances-
Screw-ups I've
Funded with
What's left of these knots of
Muscle and bone that
Are moving towards giving
Up the guitar.
Haven't owned a new one
Since '94 anyway.
So if what I've heard is correct,
Five percent
Of the world's population
Earn ninety percent of all
Money made.
Somebody very high up
Should be fired.
When I'm dead
I'll ask to see
The books.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
We all go around the day,
We are all on our way,
Some are to work,
Some are to school,
We are all part of a bigger picture;
I’m just a fragment,
And you are so too,
Our lives are together,
A part of the matter;
We have been taught,
Alone we are worthless,
We have been moulded,
To fit into the system,
But this is no way,
To reach our full potential;
This is a prison,
Guarded by bureaucracy,
And funded by those in power,
We gave up our freedom,
For a little bit of money;
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
Just a few thoughts.
Whilst colonialism by waring nations have steadily decreased across the globe.
(((Or until the next euro-war kicks off)))
Corporate colonialism has steadily increased, seizing power in society, using it's social and economic influence to extract resources; with little or no concern for the worlds fellow inhabitants.
That's because corporate colonial power has no stake, or little compassion for the welfare of indigenous populations or local economy's; over resources.
The super elite are so detached from reality, that they literally live in Alyssum; requiring just a small workforce and an army to realise production or the acquisition of global assets.
Our worlds leaders seemingly avoid all the negative consequences of their complicity in return for there compliance.
The welfare of the surplus population, especially those too young, or too old to work is unprofitable; and as such, is poorly funded, just enough to pacify the masses and stave off civil-unrest.
Globally there is a constant and gradual increase in funding pharmaceutical, mining and military sectors, with the support of the media machine; and a gradual decline in funding environmental schemes, health, and education.

(There may be big trouble ahead)
Jun 6, 2021
Jun 6, 2021 at 9:14 AM UTC
in my sleep, in the wee of yester-night
The dreams and visions came to me,
From the gods of my land, all the gods,
gods in command of prophecy and vision,
All came to me in a spiritual swarm
They then addressed in dint and power of heaven,
The chief god talked to me, by addressing my name,
In fact my native name, that listen you Opicho son of Simbuku,
Son of Khayongo, son of kimalen the son of kimudwa;
behold America is falling into smithereens,
It will fall and become insignificant like a tomb,
God has refused its evil civilization and filthy,
For it is openly perpetrating perverted sexuality,
Among divine creation; the humanity,
It wants man to marry man and a woman to marry a woman,
It has shamelessly funded gayism, lesbianism and homosexuality,
It has boldly gone against the law of God,
Its civilization impeaches the family institution,
For man marrying a man gives no children,
And a woman marrying a woman gives no children,
This is absolute anti Godliness, and anti-human,
It has replicated ***** and Gomorrah of the old days,
That heavily burned with the evil flame in their flesh,
Due to this perverted ****** civilization
It will become a dead salty stone like Lot’s wife,
For God is going to give strength to the Islamic state,
God will also empower China and Russia,
God will empower Germany and India,
He is going to remove poverty from Africa,
And make Anglo-American power irrelevant
Britain is receding back to insignificance
Scottish feelings for separation will come back,
In full stamped it will come along with Ireland
To render filthy Britain powerless over mankind,
The time has come for the world to be multi-polar,
In culture, politics and faith; divine diversity,
No single human power will reign the world,
The catholic power is also gone, never to come
This paves way for the supreme deity to come
And reign peacefully over mankind on the earth,
Without **** and terror like that one of Gaza
Committed by Anglo-American faked horn of Israeli.
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 7:10 AM UTC
I am the vacant sea,
Bereft of sentimentality apparently,
Gallantly, I uncannily resemble,
An assembly of mistreated heroes,
And a villain or two;
I am a wave at its lowest ebb,
Further now from the shore,
Furthermore from the door,
Of the love I want to blow,
Me away;
Obsolete, I’m Pac-man in the penny arcade,
Ms. Pac-man’s ****** off for days,
Or months or years; or was she ever even here.
Always holed up in my cave,
Staring at the razor blade,
Waiting for divine intervention,
Some totalitarian convention,
To drag me away;
No cares, this lust,
This pushed me over the edge,
Through the hedge- funded by my
Need for mediocrity; indemnity,
Insatiable, eternally caught far,
From what I seek;
Could anyone love a creature so bleak?
Going on a diet of bread and water,
Lamb to the slaughter,
So that someone’s daughter,
Might love a Devil like me.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC
Secretly sprinkle my dust over Newt Gingrich's high fiber breakfast cereal . Or placed in the air plenum of a ritzy hotel whereby the elite should get a minuscule whiff of hardscrabble living , thrown on the interstate so as not to feel out of place , run over repeatedly by people that were forever needy ..By all means please pour me liberally over the Baked Alaska at any tax payer funded high price , 'hob knobbing' government extravaganza ! Usher my remains across a green farm pond to be eaten by catfish and passed to the bottom , carousing with the snails and the worms forever seeking cover . Perfectly content , hiding in the mud hoping not to be discovered ..
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC
Shout at the glass doors!
Shatter them in their perfect frames
Grind bones to dust with your voice
Gather the sand in ziploc bags
Proposition the black hole souls of school children
Who smoke tailpipes in the night
Shine the light for those who are blinded
Minds melted by magnified microwaves
Bodies controlled by the corporate implants
Little colored pills whisper commanding sweet nothings in ears
Hearts hang heavy with deep-fried dreams
Lungs crack, blackened with street tar rolled in tire rubber
Muscles wither in front of the mind-numbing Tel-Lie-Vision
Eyes milky, cloudy, blinded by federally funded sludge
Distributed, rained onto the people; the end all, cure all
Shrouding sight so the frightful seems pleasant
So I write visions on pages they'll never read
Burn them alive
and send smoke signals they'll never see
but will always be able to smell
Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 5:54 PM UTC