Separated At A Still Birth Of A Nation

Separated At A Still Birth Of A Nation

the children of the pimp and ho

generation

dizzy from the centrifugal forces

the new dawn has lit upon

their smiling faces

of death

realize this much:

the conveniences of being from the

criminal class

far outweigh the consequences

unless, of course

you are met with the sudden conviction

lest ye be judged

as you have judged

because

money never judges money

all that harshly

but poverty is an eternal bully

that blinded justice

on the playground

when they were

just kids

on saddleback dinosaurs

‎come, doctor, do tell

is that more exotic smoke you have brought forth?

is it on the menu for delivery or inclub consumption?

it sells best if it isn't a bestseller

even though, selling isn't everything

but, the list in the times is still something jerks jack off to

the troglodytes have sent us back

to the korea we never left alone

the trembling is ignored in atheistic foxholes

the grunting is heard from Palineotologist trenches

dug in so deep they could not work the stolen

parts on the centrifuge that made up the forest

enriching all the hiroshima wet dreams that ran down

the insides of quivering thighs in angst ridden unicorn .jpegs

that are thumbnails of pretty moments in rice milk diplomacy

while the industrial revolution is still turning

behind everyone's backs like a spinning knife wound

discovered to be an ancient javelin thrown as a game

that turned into a war overnight overland oversea oversee overall

shells rained down from heaven before the sun could make it up

rise and shine in the land of the rising sun until its lights out

these shells are less sea and less see and more big blast

all along the parallel as the electric sounds of uranium

drive the turbines that turn the tables on who will be next

in the musical chair game of world domination

that has been dumbing down the syndrome

until the muck raked 60 years ago

comes floating to the top most point of no return

then

and only then

it is asked of the lord of the skies adorned

with mushroom light shows that make the kids say "WOW!!!"

again and again

please forgive us that can't forgive ourselves for not giving the rest

of the world a second chance after we gambled the first one away

in a solid show of force between ancient fellowships both

north and south, east and west

let us pray

lettuce spray

it makes no difference, either way

let them all eat fast food cabbages

tiny microscopes see tiny possibilities

the details of it in the intricacies in sound and movement...

a frantic squeeze...

then *"POP"*!!!

there are no more

weasels

left to go...