It looks to me as though you learned to love your prison I guess you’d say you made it your own Who knew that freedom’s such a difficult decision I bet you finally feel like you’re home. ~~~~~ Right in the center, where the ‘Have’s meet You were proud of incremental half-speeds You were getting down in the AOC dance line hands tied, nodding to the backbeat You’ll secret service dive in front of any representative alive being asked for the very bare minimum And you’ll turn into the same kind of hard-right villain you detested should we mention they could ever muster ‘Maximum’ Liberal denial’s such a lofty ataraxia Morals take a backseat, not up in the cab, but in hidden panels made by federal human traffickers If you trust the autopilot, then you’re just a sleeping passenger Passively accepting that it isn’t us the bastards serve Making peace with all the evil walking on this rancid earth Seeking unity with those who bound your hands at birth Glancing up at fascists on a bloody dais thinking “they just need a push” Not a holy man, but I’m praying for a burning Bush Yeah, I know you’d love to look away, but, love, you need to look. There are many massacres the country’s manufactured that will never make the books. Now here’s your fucking hook: ~~~ (Hook) ~~~ Home on the range of excuses Justify some fracking Water down pollution Paint a fresh coat of bipartisan charm Over back room collusion Your consent is being manufactured by illusions, marketing executives In federal seclusion Working day and night to keep you just this side of lucid And too beat down for calling out abuses So fuck all these progressives who can speak on Revolution once they empty all your powder out, and spit on all your fuses I prefer to judge a leader not by quality of tweets, but the 6-figure book deal she chooses The donors he betrays, and the donors that he’d gladly take a bullet before he refuses The slogans he reuses Buzzwords he produces and he spews like mucus. Well two can play at that, So here’s the inner dialogue of every time I snap, and it’s fine-tuned to ruthless Saying “Politics are useless” Just a bunch of loose lips tweeting cute shit Power suits, taxpayer booze trips Bunker at the ready when the shoe flips And there will be no news clips There will just be—

And the Liberal said: Thank you, Obama, for life in the red. Thank you for dap and a Pat on the head Thank you for saving the banks as millions are drowned in their debt Thank you for all of the fluff in the nothing you said. Thank you for proving we eat up identity politics All of your policies better forgotten, please tell us what books that you read. Please tell us what record was top of your playlist for turning a wedding to day of the dead. What Quavo song went along on a heavy rotation when bombing Iraqis in bed? When they told you that 90% of your kills were civilians, what Jill Scott chorus was stuck in your head? What put you at rest after such a long day of convincing a nation it wasn’t so deeply misled That you weren’t just Reagan with new-age media training who fed on our hopes like his daily bread Who preyed on the weak, and was never unwilling to serve you a speech to remind you the middle class needed to bleed and you helped us succeed if you learned to accept it, and better yet, learn how to laugh as they bled. Round of applause. Laughter erupts. Mic gets dropped, that’s the end of his set. The crowd, once hungry, are now on stun from the glow of celebrity, which is impressive, especially since they’re contented to sit and be civil while all of the donors are fed. They’ll thin out the herd by a million a week if it gives the elite an illusion of peace, like they’re out of the path of the future we reap, and they won’t be debris in the wake of it’s tread But the future is now Bathe in the sound Drown in the dread Hide in the lounge Hire more guards at your gatehouse Hire someone to come build you a safe house under your shed Hide with your diamonds and files, the files you keep to yourself, and the files you keep for the feds. Hide in the dark for a while and watch all their value regress Watch all the worth of your wealth on this earth melt down in a pool with the rest of the cess The effluence leftover after the worldly collapse of the affluent, after its back to the dirt with the rights of their birth, privileged smirks, and their unpaid taxes, hashtag blessed. This has all been a nightmare, Capitalism was only a test. You need not weep, and you need not repeat what the liberal said We will not be saved by the people who say the water is safe while they look in your face, and they pantomime sips of lead. Honey, nobody’s lifting us out of this mess.

The light of truth has been refracted Pardon me, I guess you’ve been distracted I assumed you didn’t see, or else you would have acted Now all your concerns and dying words will be redacted. They snuck the censors in behind the mileage taxes New school tactics, put into action by an old-school fascist, who they portray iconoclastic So keep the Black Lives Matter off your Twitter banner if you proudly voted for a man who’s been a Jim Crow bigot since the end of the Jurassic Joe wrote all the classics Joe designed a crime bill with 80-something reasons you’d deserve a fate that’s just this side of gassing. Wrote the book on lechery in passing Half his works were plagiaries, the other half inspired by the Klan’s Grand Masters Joe’s in bed with all those ancient racist bastards And he has been their golden boy since Thurmond walked the earth, and we’ll be feeling the effects of his societal disasters for a century beyond the day he finally does the decent thing and fucks fully off to the hereafter And I hope I’ve been wrong about religion all along, and the fate awaiting Biden smells of strong sulfuric acid But knowing Biden, HeLL may prove be the more impacted Bet you this’ll be the one that gets (REDACTED) The window is closing As you try to let some light in Fighting for (REDSCTED) And the enemy is silence Every man’s a garbage patch No man is an island. And there’s never been a bigger piece of shit than Joe (REDACTED)

They won’t let you go, let you leave, or send you home. Wait! Please say you know, that what you need is what you’re owed. They won’t let you go, let you leave, or send you home. ~ I was close enough to smell the fire Jesus took the wheel and then he kicked me off the ride I was busy shouting at myself from in the crowd About to throw down and drag myself outside Had to give myself the business If I show myself forgiveness It goes right between the eyes I was looking past my shoulder, never focused on the prize I saw myself, Turned and ran, Stalked myself through burning sands the better part of forty nights. Found myself staring in the mirror, yelling, “Go Into The Light” I was in the rear-view staring at the highway, horrified, I was in the road ahead, arms wide, ready to be mummified I’m gonna be the fella yelling how he’s sick of betting on his life I’ll also be the guy that brought the dice. Half a dozen chambers, and I keep an empty five. I only needed one to break the ice.

Little pipe bomb in a manger Lily white danger Kissinger still alive, isn’t life strange, and by strange I mean irony forged into something enraging and shameful. Would you ever really want to see an angel? The hideous truth that the news won’t use cause it doesn’t quite suit their angles We the consumers are better off left in the dark with our heads in the sand and our hands on our ankles Holding a smile at gunpoint, thanking the bankers. Paving a path to a future where we’re all staff on their super yachts, We’re the food, fuel, entertainment, and anchors So where is your anger?

Crammed in tight like refugees Sprout my spite into effigies Of Joe and the rest of the feckless molesters Trimming up hedge funds out of what’s left of our destinies Dole out a loan from our own tax refunds, he’s dumb enough to believe he impressed me If child poverty was a test, you got 50%, that is not a success to me But you’ll victory lap with an ice cream truck which is really the peak of this Pedo-Joe shitshow irony Fly the flag high enough to call the fleet Bring them to the center of the spectacle, right into the eye of the odyssey Witness those who rape the earth consistently protected under policy that we will never have the chance to read before we fall asleep. I can hear the bullfrogs calling me Telling me our purpose should be stringing up the heads of every oligarch for all to see Mount em on the tallest trees Point at all the CEO’s like “we defunded ALL of these” This is me in purest form. Speaking to you honestly. Speaking through the tears May they force you to acknowledge me When they seat you at the table, you get options; one is playing ball, the other is an all expenses trip where the piranhas feed This is me in purest form Exuding something similar to sauna steam Forge my fury right into the sonic stream I have zero fucking truck for incremental measures or political idolatry All these people vying for your 27 grassroots units worth of dollarweed All too proud to wear your issue prominently on their sleeve, but only long enough to rock a photo op, then they drop it from their speeches, cause you gave them all the optics they could ever need. When they tell you that you need to wait, and you don’t understand the game, what they really mean to say is that they can’t wrap their greedy little brains around a fight for what you know you’ll probably never see. But what would you expect from people warped by a life spent hunched, sucking money from the debt machine? What would you expect from someone constantly reminding you that they are not your enemy? white collar criminals who know the only punishment they’re ever gonna face is a handshake, a steak, and a tall glass of clemency? Ask you what a check for what they make in half a day would mean to you and yours then drink your tragic story down like Hennessy Sometimes you got to break five-hundred-thousand people all to make a human omelette to feed to an economy that needs a little energy Stepping out their limousine and over half a million corpses just to hang the banner like: “America is Back, and we’ve been editing our history” Sterilized it whiter than a bleach-backed double shot of listerine, Bloody little handprints, rinse out in the simple green. Look at how the shining little city on a hill is newly primed for the kill, and is hideously glistening. Thirsting for the gristle of the working class All the muscle All the fat All the single parents we peel off the mat All their kids, prepped for an early death, primed for impriisoning Up to date on active shooter protocol and well aware that no ones really listening Biden’s here to dunk your little dear into an oil drum and consummate the christening Contemplate the weight of how we’re just too late to save after Kamala has risen and the bell outside the mission rings. She’ll know your location, and be tracking your positioning all because a tweet that showed you don’t accept conditioning Now you’re at a bunker that they swear you’re only visiting Once you’ve been re-educated you can be released and have a pretty blue check to commemorate the trauma we inflicted in the name of socialism’s re-envisioning Kamala has risen The bell outside the mission rings. The dissonance will set your hopes to blistering She’s walking through the west wing, whistling America is back and hailing Kissinger a living king. America is failing every living thing. America is failing every living thing.

Venus De Milo A farewell to arms in the nuclear silos Echoed alarms The flavor of bleach the sweet smell of iso Tunnels that honeycomb miles like manmade rhizomes There’s a voice in the door, There’s a face at the transom It mouths: “Nancy will gladly keep holding the green new deal for a fascist ransom” She’ll say “Let them eat cake and a baked Alaska” Let’s keep our heads up, think for a moment, take a deep breath, But the airs all cancer. So, there’s your answer. ~ Venus De Milo Hands in the air in a strict no-fly zone Do as I say: Bury my MV5, and DISSOLVE my iPhone. I’ll tell you the rest on the long drive home with my eyes closed. Just this side of a Christ pose.