Errands

Written on a scrap next to my grocery list.

Errands

 

Vault over rhetoric

On manufactured hope

From governing stutters

Of a tired communal mouth

 

Mentality of the hive,

Praised well for being alive

Submission, too, is fostered

Rearing grown children. Not adults.

 

“Oh life!” Shines the killing grin!

Register your stale misfortunes

With the liar at the desk.

Put a band aid on your abyss

 

Prayers of heathens

Shall gently kiss your self-pity

With bloody narcotic lips

Until you can’ t feel anymore