The sun bore down with racist chemistry
the wealth was taken from the rich and given to the animals to eat
the rain tore off their skin as it battered down upon their heads
it was so hard and thin needles and a knife
the blade so fast it breaks time in half
it parades and inflames like a masochist vein
or the hair on a horse hardened by winter
the dust sticks to the face of the man
who brings the news that things will yet improve
if we can persist and just do
not lose the nest to the weather
it takes no prisoners
and the children grow up believing
life is going to get worse but instead things improve
they ride to school in a hearse and peddle hot fluid
in place of lessons they get to wonder as they grow
left wanting to consume vast chunks of the world
to fill the gaping need with flesh too big to fit
into the ambulance that came to collect them
and take them home to rest underneath
they baked a cake and put your name on it