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Penal Colony
-
Scion
stumbling familiar
came the have-not;
juiced and pathetic
with cratered log
books and the lining
the destics
of his attachments
no more aging
living like the farm,
used to live in the now
perched atop the front door
crashed the party
brought to the phony monarchy
brought in with the guardian note
have-not brought in the step man
banging pots and pans
pulling at my children's hands
stole my holy ghost
when the scion
comes around
turning pyramids
upside down
feeding the rag
and the ray tube
waits a little longer
staled the air
scion
scion
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scion
scion
spouting waste at
third world poverty
chewing steak and
snorting taxes
representative
of our mania
our panic
OUR HANGOVER
fuel for the stations
of the cross
WELCOME TO THE END
OF AMERICA
scion
scion
scion
scion
when the scion
comes around
turning pyramids
upside down
feeding the rag
and the ray tube
waits a little longer
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