Once
upon a
time there
was a world
full of billions
of people, and o-
f those droves rose
a select few who ac-
crued billions of doll-
ars, and of the multitu-
des of human existence
innocence lived in squal-
or with crying infants and
callused feet traversing unm-
arked graves on unpaved stre-
ets, it doesn’t take a genius 2 d-
ecide he’d rather have Funyuns e-
aten off his penis in a mansion made
of money down by the seaside somew-
here sunny than B the epitome of pove-
rty lurking the city planning another rob-
bery, and mayB, probably squatting in a s-
ewer swatting flies as fewer people than you
even care if they perish like when a rat dies, I
feel lied to inside of my soul when I realize that $
is a form of control—that it must be chased or you
too will be erased just as quickly as ranting through
a ficly—this whole rat race isn’t but a pissant, insuffi-
cient glut 4 greed, indeed what’s the sole mission? how
about we feed every mouth first, tend 2 what we need an-
d quit pretending freedom isn’t just