One of Death's Representives Visits

Please sit. It's time to pick your poison.
As the epidemic rages, we draw near.
We won't wear masks. They violate
Our rights, we say, so be prepared
To be infected. Do not agitate for
Change, and, by that, we mean any
Change, or else you'll find us on your
Street with body armor, loaded weapons,
Ready to dispose of you if you're not
Clubbed by our police, and do not
Go outside. Don't breathe. The whole
West Coast is an inferno. Deadly
Smoke drifts everywhere. The planet
Bakes, but don't expect us to drive less
Or halt our endless drilling for petroleum.
The globe may warm, but we don't care,
So pick your poison. Take all three.
We've brewed them just for you.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 42 times
Written on 2020-09-21 at 21:32

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