Gratitude and bitterness,
Bankers and junkies,
Masters and servants,
Carrots and donkeys,
Old cars and dark bars,
Wheeze beneath stars
That once sparkled,
When this was a wilderness.
Now they’re barely lit.
For the life of me, I can’t make sense of it.
Taking God’s Earth
To be used as your whore.
A mat that you step on
And leave by your door.
And if, indeed, you are what culture brings forth,
I’ve no patience for civilized man anymore.