The billionaires owned all the buildings we finally saw as the coffins they had been.
No money saved, no money spent, no one to let us in.
No one could afford the rent.

Tents clogged the streets. No one could afford to drive.
**** and **** like rivers thrived. No one left to deprive.
Skin pulled tight over ribs shining bright.
Hunger and madness, the daily delight.
And don't pretend you didn't know.
The children are always the first to go.

The other day made the sky cry rust.
Our God was money, and in God we trust.
Who fell to the earth, hands full of life. Waiting ourselves to die.
If it wasn't us, would the sky still be blue?
If we wait to understand. Who among us ever knew?

Over the hills, they pressed. Rifles clinched tight in hand. The things we thought we taught were things you cannot understand.
Charging in to the National Guard, the Marines,! Bullets blinking harmlessly off  the APC’s,
Delirious and suffering they raged against the only ones with food.

Mercy we gave ourselves.

Better than suffering until the end.
To be put down in the field of boarded over main street.   Our last stand brilliantly illuminated in the 500,000 Watt spillage of the sports ball stadium, still unpaid.
For that at least something mattered.
As the blood flew and clung. Righteousness splattered.
And so the shots rang out, the bodies fell... the piles built.
The orange Tacos Manatees could not conceive of  “GUILT”.

To sign into  law  our  Living hell.
The dead and dying all around. The lovely, rotting  and the crying, sound.
The Walmart shelves were empty.
Costco ran with blood.
Nowhere to charge the electric cars. The few that understood.
Concrete suffocated life, nowhere to dig the wells.  
And still the advertiser schemed  and automated corporations ... loaded shells.