There is no composition
In my Scrolls-of-Shitlist-Accord.
It’s a very rudimentary process.
Treat me with racism, prejudice, bigotry, ignorance, and profiling-discrimination.
I run this town, albeit the mundo.
Get the fuck out, or get under accord.
Contract’s up.
Even the unwise leftover oligarch of pony-show aristocracy is dismal
In embarrassment.
And your hired agency-domestic-terrorism cell,
Fucking loves Bounty.
I got in from the wrong-side,
To show you how an International-Culture works well together.
Leper or Neanderthal,
We’ve all read about you from London
To Congo, Osaka, and more.
Why am I in America?
Your sullied-reparations marriage in The Dead President’s County.
And all my old travelers justify a pop-by in silverskin
And Invisible Man troupe.
You’ve always seen me.
Goddessa is a Myth.
Li-Chang is forever.
International-Debt-Accord.
I’ve got my eye on you, America.
Secrets stowed and podcasts.
Cancer + Addiction with a side of PTSD.
How… ever, so faulty.
It seems to walk-a-line of distinction.
I rather walk hard.
And I’ve lived in the Hellspawn of Spiritual Consumption.
Pin the Cracks + Meridians.
I’ve left you lulling in dead tomb and abandoned vessel.
I never stopped working.
I sold my shares and company.
The Mint you burn down, proudly?
Cracked out to methylated in your butterfly powder tea.
Blues aren’t meant for love.
They’re meant for jets and cesna.
And I still – am always on schedule.
Why try to act like I’m not your Boss?
Female just did it better.
It’s like the Matriarchy is Sure-Shot on Target.
How is this so?
No one taught me how to tie my shoes,
I foraged my food.
I sold any merchandise I could come across.
Lick-hitter and shiv-brigger.
Who cares.
You hired me.
And I got my promotions.
And I earned it.
Your inclusion and diversity mean much less,
When I notice the indifference.
A family from slave-pillaging.
Crooks-for-jooks.
Don’t you know I was born to be your Enemy?
Your only friend.
The Inadequate Holy-Ghost.
Guanyin.
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