Ridiculing power; who Chaos has strewn around.
Making evil glower; whose greed has yet to be bound.
No lie matches money; its bottom to top we made.
Lie of milk & honey; even plastic flowers fade.
Workers sort random numbers in pre-fab data banks.
Blithely unaware they’re culling us with remote tanks.
Clocking in & clocking out; all under comm blackouts.
Hangmen have always worn hoods…they’re effective cop-outs.
If there is retail for all; then we are all for sale.
Cheque for beta-testing…writ in ink of widow’s wail.
L.B.Stowe 