But now’s the time for misanthropes,
For drivel and for rule of law
To swear themselves beneath a plastic-gold
Daidem this newests season’s
As if it’s all just fine,
Me sitting here behind the glass
To process afterthoughts and offer
Up opinions sewn with binary,
Styled and selected from the latest
So label me a slothful one,
But now’s the time for malcontents.
Now the voices spout and gurgle
So the paper reads like phlegm,
And it’s a page-turner,
A riveting catalogue
Of consumer price reductions,
Painted yellow, so they know I’m scared.
Or maybe it’s the thinning hair,
Decaying from the years of bleach and altitude.
So get off of your high horse,
Your daisy chain of trunk and tail
And trunk and tail
And just go bald and cold with
What you think is dignity.