Late Night TV

Emanating rage,
spitting bullets into the darkness,
to feed your sons,
your daughters,

America has this ridiculous notion that they have “owner’s rights” when it comes to freedom.

“The sin is murder!”,
the evangelist wails,
on late night tv.

Fuck him!
My belly is full
of poison,
my vomit lethal,
and government approved!

I won’t be here long,
I’m full of holes.
But bear with me,
I’m seething in anger,
a sin more vile than murder,
and God still trusts in me!

Tonight I am lonesome,
but drunk on your gratitude.


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Filed under outlaw poetry, poetry

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