Coma Baby, salivation of ubiquitous tragedy.
Petroleum under the sea
Fissures exposed, eroded social contract.
Tell me a tale of forgiveness.
“Tough choices must be made!”
Congressional random phrases.
The difference between faith and bliss.
Engine of tar-black submarine,
leak of held back tears, grief of millennia.
I feel America crying.
Taste blood salt, polluted brine, dystopia.
The best hope for our regeneration,
for our continuity,
for our survival:
Let the race be won,
the trophy given;
the competitors disperse
aglow in glory.
While we who endure
quietly, quaintly, alive to each moment,
slip between the slicks