Wednesday, March 06, 2024

EMPIRES DIE LIKE SUNS


dear America my heart

is a bluddy sponge

from cleaning up yr messis!


amnesiac bullets

for sleepless-eyed bastards

roaring from your guns


a flaming head of wax

full of children 

burned beyond their skin


empires die like suns

it's not a fail or malfunction

there's nothing else for them to do


the final days however 

and this i hadn't foreseen

are all in slow motion


no need for you or the kids 

to miss a single 

burning frame


my poems you son of a whore

is a bluddie mop

from cleaning up your braines







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