I am not literate, not in the way
one normally would say. Words are my
insanity. I make them rhyme, entwine,
cry for mercy, though I have none to give
them so they haunt me. In reality,
they are my enemies and have no
sensitivity. See how they resort
to dead metaphors and false prophecy.
They’ve made bad loans on worthless paper stock
and paraded around as mistresses
of banks, CEO’s, and boards of trustees.
Their disrepute is revolting. Watch them
smile in subservient cliché wearing
the shade of lipstick called "Mercenary."
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