Last stand, and I came to deliver I been called a Clinton operative, a Russian, and a grifter, By Libs awash in student debt, and proud to be an intern, Sucking up to pigs who’ll get a tax cut in the midterms Cut the ties but never heal the wrist-burns Capitalist shackles wrap and penetrate like ringworms Round the necks of those whose deaths will not affect the kings purse, Or the coffers of the company the king serves Who manufacture mandated tinctures safety data hanging from a fixture, half a mile skyward, just dangling from the rafters. My grift is sobbing til I’m cackling with laughter I guess I would have made a decent actor I’d be great at crying on command until they cut, plus 40 minutes after. When the director waves their hand, It ain’t a wrap, it’s now a legal matter My grift is weeping on a mic until I’m hacking up Air strike verses like it’s bombs away and batter up Swinging on these bigots they keep killing us to fatten up Kill the switch, eat the rich, I think they’re finally fat enough Grab your knife and fork, the world is yours, Just say you’ve had enough. And if you’re comfy, You can go ahead and Laugh it up Tell me how the most important vote I’ll ever cast is like the choosing of a bus in that it might not take you anywhere you want, But no one can deny the fact the bus is now no longer where it was And that’s the kind of progress We should celebrate and trust. Spoken like a kid that never took a bus Spoken like a piece of shit that used some cash to mask his stink and truly thinks he’s one of us Spoken like a terminally unserious person Who equates our cries for rights To mixed up orders from a server And it paints a privileged picture of what you would label ‘Urgent’ that the worst thing you’ve experienced in life has been the time your waiter accidentally brought a tray of gold-flaked scallops when you CLEARLY ordered gold-flaked Urchin Now you’re Storming out the restaurant and hopping in a Tesla you got 80 pounds of Tony Fauci merch in ~ Rewind! True change won’t make you wait in such a long line Life’s not just a way to waste your free time Air that’s fit to breathe is not a “Free Ride” ~ Best to place your bets on weaponizing the identity of every limp progressive claiming grassroots integrity, policy’s a slippery slope for all of its complexity; so flex your brave resistance with this Ilhan Omar NFT Numbered one of seven-hundred twenty-three, Each depicts her valiantly championing a bill before she lays it at a donor’s feet. And she can throw her hands up in the air with AOC, and say “If only Nina Turner could have voted ‘Present’ too, that’s why we need another seat.” “We need some MORE progressives we elect to only tweet” “Who live to serve Humana, and their label of ‘Elective’ slapped on every patients gravest needs” Every station plays the theme: ‘Medical professionals agree on the effectiveness and safety of injections authorized for this emergency’ and in other, unrelated news, The profits of the ones who manufacture vaccines just increased by nearly 36 billion, with a fucking B. Sometimes it feels like we’re the only ones that see Sometimes it feels like all of us are lost as sea And every time we think we see an island on the tip of the horizon, it turns out to be another measure making sure we’re kept within the watchful eye of murderous authority So, I guess my grift is crying for the future they denied us where the people who would buy us are a mockable minority And we are more than genomes under warranty And we are more than serfs in constant quarantine If I had a single breath left, I’d let the chorus scream. I denounce our leaders claiming “None for all, and more for me.” ~ Rewind! True change won’t make you wait in such a long line Life’s not just a way to waste your free time Air that’s fit to breathe is not a “Free Ride” ~

(“What about you, eyeballs, what did you see?”) It couldn’t have been me, Sir, I was front row, in my AOC t-shirt Fois-Gras suckin on a press release, sir, Head down, 4th shot, good little sheep, sir Sit down, sweetie, the adults are gonna speak first They Trust the Science, and they’re terrified of research Here to thank our Healthcare Heroes they’ve been feeding to the burnout, feet first. Til, suddenly, they dip mid-shift, take a header off a bridge, such a shame, they were really such a sweet nurse. Now they’ll never get the card and the cold slice of Pizza meant to thank them for their teamwork Now they’ll never get the baggie full of Chex mix which would be the one reward they’d see for all the moms they had to intubate, and the countless cries of grief since we’ve been haunted by the Spectre of the C-Word Now all the applause for our healthcare heroes rings a very hollow note, because we played it out like Freebird Add the one’s and zero’s and our fragile checks and balances are checks for all the wealthy, who have such unholy talents that we think it’s patriotic that we’ve all got zero-balances, and re-elect Pelosi so she’ll face our toughest challenges Which is analogous to water for a drowning man Nancy disregards our impoverished with a spiteful and dismissive little waving of her withered hand. Cause half a million freezing on the streets is Biden’s winter plan And I bet you swore they told you you were voting for a different man. But, really, all you wanted was a different man. It didn’t make a fucking difference if he finishes the previous inhabitants agenda, and starts auctioning protected land Biden’s born to leap at any war a donor’s check demands Turns out that You can’t cure greed once it infects a man. Once they lose respect for human life, and focus all their fucking efforts on the Oil Baron Rescue Plan Honey, What are we to Hecuba, or Hecuba to us that if she’s starving, we should give a damn? Why should we be moved to tears if someone isn’t eating; we won’t even recognize that food’s essential to our being. It’s just us and motherfucking Israel who will not guarantee that food’s a basic human right, because starvation is our favorite tool of genocide disguised as sanctioned Democratic healing. That’s me in the corner, losing my religion, gouging out my eyes, and dancing on the ceiling Jesus Fucking Christ, what a feeling.

I didn’t have to wait for long Never had to change a song I Just sing it like a raised alarm and smile when you say I’m wrong I can’t even feign disarmed, can’t fake while you play the charms And I don’t know the page we’re on, But this is where you say you’re wrong ~~~ Now’s the perfect time for you to burn the bridge to self-forgiveness Now’s the chance take a stand stay your hand before you cast another vote for corporate interest Another vote that chokes your hopes of owning your own home, or opening a business They love to say their hands were tied, the stars just weren’t aligned for them to get their votes in line and see their promises delivered, But they killed it in an INSTANT Bills don’t die by accident, they’re all assassinated on behalf of the congressionally kismet by some lobbyists who see themselves as agents of clandestine fate, not fences in a prison Dealing in the stolen goods of sleeping slaves, trading on the futures of their children. Betting on a spread of daily dead where every grave’s creating profit by the millions For fascists lurking in the wings, and all of their affiliates And every Aetna demigod our Senators conduct their darkest dealings with, it really gets impossible to document or fingerprint, cause it isn’t just a pattern of corruption, it’s the very fabric making up the structure of the system that we’re living in Dash your hopes, and down a margarita goes, you box the shadows, take a little nap, and then you get back in and swing again- But if the Margarita made you sick, you probably wouldn’t take a drink again So if you’re voting either party, Honey, think again. I recommend you steel your nerves to never serve an officer, a president, a despot, or a king again. Mark my words, the day will come where we will rise and sing again. If voting makes you sick, well, no one’s forcing you to drink again. ~Chorus~ This is where you finally admit you weren’t ignorant, You boldly voted Joe like an informed and blissful idiot, You chose to blur the parts of Biden you don’t find the prettiest And now you choose uplifting news and filter out the grittiest But truth is something coarse enough That even when it’s hidden it’s apparent when you feel it on your fingertips, I know it’s hard to deal with from a distance, and up close, the truth is hideous, but there’s no getting rid of it, you have to let it in, or it just worries at your skin, in every moment, loud or intimate. Shake it off, for fucks sakes, you don’t have to celebrate or be so proud of progress by imaginary increments You don’t have to heap such constant praise on fucking villains like their stillborn promises are honestly just isolated incidents And not the product of the principle of privilege Not intentional eugenics just by any other synonym Covered up with desperate clusterfucks of rosy images Labeled plain by any other name except for what the fucking image is. So once you’ve stared the page down enough you’ll spot the difference, One is red and one is blue, And That’s the only truth, Neither one delivers on The promise of deliverance. One is red, and one is blue, and that’s the only difference. The rest are isolated and imaginary incidents.

False alarm, I thought that help was here. But it was my own reassurance Bouncing round a hundred thousand times In my own Echosphere If every time you speak, You keep it off the record, Consequently, you can keep your record clear. And if you mute the speech that shakes your frail beliefs, you only seek to insulate your image and continue down the stream in the direction clout and credit steers Directly from your mouth and to “Am I The Asshole” Reddit’s ears Directly back into the greasy pockets of some Gates Foundation Financiers And then Directly back into the frantic final thoughts of early-trial Neuralink volunteers Staring at the numb and mumbling vacancies where recently had been their peers Half of whom are glitching with a memory stuck on ‘pause’ and half have zero fucking clue just who they are, or why they’re here. It’s been said That Fear is all we have to fear But that was back before The Bezos Fear Condenser came along Distilling concentrated fear that’s diamond-pure, crystal-clear, oppressor-strong and woven into every single article you read and song they’ll let you hear. Then Elon heard that Jeff enhanced our fears by 86 percent, and he said “hold my beer” And not a single sheep among the herd would turn their head, or say a word, cause they were all too busy begging for the shears. Begging for the muzzle Happy just to guzzle feed and watch a screen for all their years Man, To each his own, Can’t afford a home, But they’ll let you Have your cozy little Echosphere Where, There, among your own devices, you can break the seventh seal, Overthrow the oracles and slay the seer All the tomes were burned And all the lips were seared Shut your eyes and all our lives just disappear Now Blink em twice: Welcome to your Echosphere

~ And when you dream, you’re by yourself Don’t know the streets where you find yourself Go back to sleep, don’t mind yourself Both hands on your head. ~ Money’s talking While hunger prays Buncha Nazi-loving child-fuckers run the state 911 is on some 1-800-CIA Plastic pundits pump your trusts and fund your shallow graves It’s malice just for malice sakes Congress houses wealthy corpses, breathing hexes, arming forces, spilling out a million greedy snakes from all their orifices, coursing down the Congress floor, across the aisle, out the door, to curse a million more before they’ve run their bloody courses Clip your wings like Klippenstein Then out and burn your sources collapse, at times, is hard to witness, other times, it’s gorgeous There’s something satisfying in the act of watching something greedy choke upon the very thing on which it gorges And there’s something humbling blooming in the thought that, once the dust has settled, mine could be the hand that clears the moss, and lights the torches Mine could be the voice that wakes the very fucking orchids Mine could be the words that stir the armies in the orchards The lowliest of roots, I’d be the one to call them forward let the very earth be witness first to see the fascists flail and flounder once they learn they’re truly cornered Once they learn the class war has boiled down to looters versus hoarders Let the earth absorb their meager worth once they’ve been quartered Laugh, and say “I only followed orders” Kind of like the guy who flew the drone that leveled Doctors Without Borders When Classic Clinton morals launched a couple wars and, off the books, a dozen more, so Congress opened up the store and moved a quarter-million mortars And bombed allegiance out of those who wouldn’t kneel before us And now the stage is set, and we’re the starving chorus who hunger not, for justice, but the leaders that ignored us. ~ Go back to sleep, Don’t mind yourself Let what you’ve seen rewind itself And, when you dream, you bind yourself Both hands on your head ~

Trigger Warning/ Working Class Solidarity I saw two people talking at the protest in the park Both from different ends of the spectrum, least that’s how the conversation starts Soon the liberal resister will discover they have lots of things in common with their Unvaxxed, right wing counterpart. Just maybe not the swelling in the walls that surround their hearts The Trigger Warning for dystopian and dark is the little bird you see when you embark When you submit your body to the tidal pull of Twitter’s frigid oceans Where everything you see evokes a negative emotion So if it’s hard for you to view the dark and the dystopian, Well, little buckaroo, I’m not some shrine designed for you to find some hope within If every day we open up our eyes is like an overdose, I don’t intend to sugar-coat my opiates If dystopian and dark is on the menu, Honey, so be it, I take my rich rare, like I take my kitsch Soviet. My army swells it’s ranks with those regarded as the lowliest And we intend to dine upon the holiest And if my little tweets are hard to stomach, Kitten, buckle up, the Ugly dial just got cranked from ‘Moderate’ to ‘Copious’ Please consider this your trigger warning that my every word is purposefully odious, Deliberately chosen, that it swerves a little viper curve and chokes you in the mobius You don’t wanna hear it, so I had to go and dress it up melodious: Fascism is not something you vote against Fascism’s a slow descent Fascism has crafted scripts for use on local news a fucking decade long before you ever noticed it Fascism is not your neighbor’s trumper bumper sticker made to match his trucker hat, it’s the vat of oil you and he are boiling in Trigger Warning/ Ugly Fucking Future, soon your useless brand of radically flaccid centrist views will have us staring down a feeding tube that serves a very Soylent Sin Where All your friends are zombies Sharing dead-eyed pics of Soylent grins The trigger warning for the dark and the dystopian is Congress’s collective mouth hideously opening Swallowing the working class and comment-section-nobodies Who’ll pick apart the movement, Cause they caught a whiff of chauviny As hopeless as I fear I’m gonna grow to be, There’s bound to be some hope in me, that we can cease the friendly-fire long enough to set the scene, we can stop the little factions eating off of one another long enough to catch the kind of meat that makes our meager spread the richest feast I should have put a Trigger Warning: Working-Class Unity Something less akin to peaceful protest, more to mutiny I do not submit my written word to hear your scrutiny So if you want the censored version It’s unlocked by muting me.

(“Wait, so, if you don’t trust the CIA, or you don’t trust, like, our institutions, then what do you trust?”) Last track, I think I only Blinked once, Skipped lunch Blink twice, Christ, Shut your eyes Now, Open wide Fascists took the nation and Inflation took a supersize It’s Sad to say your teachers couldn’t quite make the ends collide, but now you’ll probably get to see them on the weekends Doing Uber drives See? Lube it with a little oil One, it tastes expensive, Two, you’d be surprised how well it helps you open up your throat so you consume the lie of human rights That was Sold to you by suits and ties designer scents on plastic men with patient fangs and ancient vice You know, The kind of greed that makes a person lose the sight of morals, so it’s easier to sleep at night. Easier to ease their minds and pick a foreign people we can demonize If you take a sec to sink into how war criminals think, you’ll know you’d never want to see inside If every man’s an open book to look within, theirs are bound in human skin, and not designed for human eyes They are wearing human skin, but they can simply not be humanized. They aren’t worth the lowest of the poor they swore to crucify Holy sweet Geneva, there’s a mass grave full of dead believers you called the police on cause you don’t believe in squatters rights You believe the sanctity of human life is relative to human worth in terms of work and dollar signs So Listen when I say you need to find the light of day before it’s too late to apologize Holy, sweet, Geneva, here’s a mass grave you can colonize. Because You seem to love to talk about the spirit of America. But if you saw the spirit of this lands’ supposed-character, I think that you’d be calling ICE I also think the ACTUAL America is truly represented by the call to ICE. Is Represented best by the descendants of some immigrants, bitching bout the immigrants snitching on some immigrants, then playing dumb and innocent like good little christians when their neighbors get deported, Until they’re screaming at the store that they waited 20 minutes more because the staff was short because some ordinary bigots started waging war on immigrants And we’ll just keep deporting Because like your first vote, and each election since, it turned out that the man you were supporting ended up to just be twice the fucking bigot as the bigot that he wins against. I was not among the herd, a single word from Biden stirred a tingle in the cynic-sense I knew that a vote for Joe was more like Reagan 2.0, I could smell the sarin smoke that choked around the riverbend And so I spoke about a living end About An anchor thrown to drowning men A Democratic President A country never found again A man who marinated in the blood this land was founded in A crime bill that contained sufficient lethal ends to drown us in Written by a man who wears a crown of sins Who Currently is sleeping in a bed of sins It’s no wonder those who truly understand the meaning of democracy are not too keen to let us in It’s no wonder other countries can’t conceive of skipping meals, or missing rent, or being on the streets because you can’t afford your medicine. That’s uniquely American, and Joe has proved to be the most disturbingly American of Presidents. And I shiver when I think of what’s to come, if he’s the precedent It’s a wonder I can even function still to process all the rhymes, through all the resonance. Bless my heart, I’m liminally reticent Standing on a threshold of bone, ash, and sediment Near a faded marker claiming this to be the grave of all my sentiments Exactly where I left them all. And just how I remembered it.

Sorry, I’m so gloomy, but the gloom is half the mood. Welcome to the country where they throw out half the food Like: “Fuck you if you’re hungry, We got better things to do Got a million more priorities than human rights for YOU” Empty stomachs wandering an empty store With shelves as empty as our craters left on distant shores They mark the spot, where once, a country thrived that even tried to help it’s poor, now, in its place, a fascist state, where rape is just a tool of war. Guess they took a page from out the book we used in ‘64, Villagers we stacked in graves, Caked in fucking agent orange Now, Cut to yesterday, Afghanistan endures the very storm that swept it’s way through Vietnam where, even now, the blood is warm. Even now, Fallujah celebrates to see a baby born who’s not deformed Not Warped by little presents we left hidden in the dirt, courtesy of all your friends at the World Economic Forum Courtesy of Civilized Political Decorum Unity across the aisle Both sides agreeing via War Crime Quorum I’d like to say that when they start the midterm texts, I’ll be able to ignore ‘em, But I know myself well enough to know I’m gonna draw them all rhetorically, then, verbally, I’ll quarter ‘em Lyrically I’ll carpetbomb and mortar ‘em Purely via metaphor, I’ll bury them alive But upside-down, with the utmost blasphemy intended out of spite Lyrically I’ll lead them by the eyes Cause, Lyrically, I’m still beneath the ice Scratching at the surface for a purpose they deny And every time, they smile, and they look me in the eyes. And suddenly we’re six feet under sub-prime Six feet standing firmly in between you and the sunrise Now your movement’s as restricted as the Sunrise Crippled into parody like Occupy Young hearts, be free, Young Turks, here to slowly poison hearts and minds Get ‘em speaking Press Release in record time Get ‘em Standing up for AOC, and every other Langley plant who sprays a coat of ‘Tax The Rich’ across their core of ‘Semper Fi’ The skies are nice and clear, The drones are set to fly They are Following the pipeline of ‘How The West Was Won’ to ‘How The West Declined’ to ‘How The West Made Debt Into A Genocide’ to ‘How The West Demolishes A Picket Line’ to ‘How The West Contaminates A Riverside’ to ‘How The West’s War Crimes Are Glamorized’ to ‘How The West Protects The Kind Of Medical Neglect That Is Infanticide At Best, And Is, At Worse, An Ethnic Cleansing Rite’ Nah, it’s Safe to say it’s all fun and games until the feds arrive *knock knock knock* Oh, SHIT.

They’ll gladly pay you by the hour For a minute or so So you can sign off on the towers Where they’ll piss on your home And if you feel like you’re just powerless to answer them “No”, it’s cause you are It’s cause you are. They’ll gladly stagnate a living wage Snap the chains Bury it Labor slaves in rusty cages Dragged behind a chariot Led by Mr. Racial Jungle, Joseph R. Escariot Fighting over scraps as they barrage us all with variants and buzzfeed clickbait Straight Until we’re paralyzed Trying to distract us from the concentration camps that Joe had swore he’d close but only chose to amplify Where they got 50-something kids in cages made for 5 to occupy And no, she hasn’t SEEN the camps, But Harris swears they’re paradise And she tells us the facilities are safe, and that, right down to the women, they are regularly sterilized. Then she Throws her head back and she proceeds to laugh that sort of heartless cackle you’d expect from someone working steadfastly on behalf of the virus and a Congress full of parasites And where was I? I was busy cashing every blue check Demonstrating plainly all the narratives expected from the verified I was busy breeding verbal leeches by the terabyte Train em to exsanguinate the wealthy while they sleep at night, Bleed the oil barons dry and barren, say they showed us how to share, and now we share alike. Tell them I contracted rabies from a feral mic And now I’m just another species losing sleep to noise pollution and these glaring lights Forced to change its habits and adapt to just survive Now it’s safe to say that some of us are thriving in the moment, throwing shit on presidential homes beneath the Paris skies So, If you feel like you’re just powerless, I guess you bought the lie. But I can tell they’re petrified of our collective might I can hear those gentrifiers weeping at the sight of our collective rights. And I only can imagine the intensifying fear of knowing revolution’s near, and all that’s left to do is simply wallow in the thick anticipation of a rabid bite And, Baby, one day, you can ask your leaders just what that was like, before you grab a slice. So, If you think you’re powerless, Allow me, now, to change your mind. See, they’ll pay you hourly tax them each apart, and build a shining tower out of loopholes and cards and tell you that you’re powerless to keep you in the dark, because you aren’t. Because we aren’t. You see, they’ll pay you hourly, but tax them each apart and make you build a shining tower Made of loopholes and cards Where they’ll tell you that you’re powerless, to keep you in the dark, because you aren’t. Because we aren’t.