All the yawn-dark daylight hours rotted.
The traffic prattles; the planes haver.
At night the stars’ mad truths are plotted.
The blue sky is but a screensaver.

The Marx of weakness, the Marx of woe?
We were the ones
Who made him so.

Friedman, beggar man, ‘Kill The Poor’.
Weekly rations
Don’t cost much more
Than a good
Crack whore.

Blow! Blow a hole in the blue-eyed sky.
Blow! You’re not the little world I once knew.

Rockthemousedontrockthemousebaby.

Absinthe-minded, absinthe-eyed,
Earth is famous
As where
God went to die.

Armed with heaven, armed with death,
They took a breath
And they blew
It through
The screaming sky.

Blow! Blow a hole in the blue-faced sky.
Blow! You’re not the little world I once knew.

Blow! Blow a hole in the dead blue sky.
Blow! You’re not the little world I once knew.
No?