I saw Nina Turner
with a roller dipped in ocean blue

Spreading life-like water in a painted pool

She smoothed the surface out,
and made a little wave or two

A few convincing ripples
and reflections ripe for hazing you
and every other vacant fool
who saw her build a cage for you

Who STILL returned to “Ahh” & “Ooh”
and walked right past the toxic plume
to witness Nina’s masterpiece,

Her grand charade,

Her painted pool.

The hints of light that trick your eyes.

The trap inside the lapis jewel.

The half-imagined voice
that tries to lavish you with platitudes
and lure you in the baited waters,
hook and sinker,
absolute.

I know you’ve thought about just diving in it,
haven’t you?

Now that Nina’s got you
feeling like you’re splatter-proof

Progressivism ain’t a pipeline to the blue side,
Baby, it’s a waiting room,

and it leads you to a pool
with zero wading room.

And every lemming
diving in that painted pool today
will not be swayed,
and can’t be saved.

I know, I tried to save a few.

But,
I ultimately watched them eat the pavement.


Those who get less leisure time
than peasants in the Middle Ages

Those for whom a dozen fucking eggs
are worth an hour of their wages

Heaven’s not a place on earth,
and hell is what you make it

and, look at us,
we made it.

America.

Degraded.

Diving in a painted, fake oasis
on the basis of a break in their enslavement

Lined up at the diving board,
excited and impatient

Pointing fingers halfway round the world to cry ‘Invasion!’

Turning backs on human rights at home,
cause the location
doesn’t fit with our narration

You’ll never spot the sanctions
if you still deny the occupations

The End came and went,
I guess you missed the high note

Like we’re gonna miss the last white rhino

The Harbinger of End Times
was floating in the sky,
But nobody saw the message
past the clouds above Ohio

Where Blackrock is demonstrating
“Sell High, Buy Low”

A toxic Mass-Eviction in the Heartland
Suddenly your cityspan’s a 15-minute Biodome

Cops on every corner,
every blink of yours, reported,
every word that’s out of order
is summarily recorded

When information’s valuable,
your privacy’s as malleable
as safety in a school,
or your right to an abortion.

But we know the face of every thief
who came to take our portions,
auctioned off our pensions,
built a hundred bloody warships

And I bet you didn’t know
you were a donor for it

Bet you didn’t know
we still do no-knock warrants

Who could have guessed
that if unnecessary force
is left to officer discretion,
the result is something morbid.

And inhuman

And abhorrent

All of which is in your feed,
and whirling in the torrent

All of which is coursing through the current

All our fate, like Julian’s,
is hinging on American Assurance

Which history has proved to be as honest
as me telling you it’s raining
while I’m drenching you with urine

Then telling you the urine’s really
liquid fucking mustard gas
Then ditch it in the pastureland
like “best of luck”,
and light the match

Then telling you to disregard
that pestilence that billows past

And all from in the comforts of my safety hatch

Down in the bunker,
there’s a massive empty pool
that Nina Turner, patiently,
is painting ocean blue.
Its depth is deathly shallow,
but deception swears it true,
and she draws the drooling willing
Two by Two.