An atrocity of wounded feet
     licks pavement, a fury of pigment
painting this generation’s degrading race

against facing its portrait of vacancy
     wasting them, liking the way time treats
     them does not become children, no, sir,

revolution takes men, Saturn devours them,
     symptoms exhibiting failure make
     of it an event, a moment they

     marathon from, the cracked eggshells of
     their existence a song no one sings
along with, yokes of their handhelds running them

     into the ground, ruining almost
     forever true communication,
without attentions to span how space grows, vast

     blankness of place surrounds like hell’s hounds
     those mongrels whose bark lets down our souls
thorns crown, weeping at fiction television’s

     crucible burns humanity in,
     we need to end foolosophy’s rule,
feed an exception its own tale, school clueless

     Millennials in the tricks of the
     Devil using them like tools, plastic
mausoleums of vague trouble coming down

     the road on pixelated horses,
     some things never get forgotten, no,
sin falls on all until sucked out like

     venom, handling snakes making men of
     victims, disciples of demons, and
prophets of idiots, too, finding holes in

     their whining’s logic, while raking coals
     with words burning bibles, the oil that
scalds skulls, spitting vitriol saliva pales

in washing off, for survivors of wisdom’s
     assault riffling through boxes of god’s
     files proves nothing (t)his cover-up does.