Salted fungus will grow and emerge from beneath the fingernails
of young professionals
Flaming hogs and Bayside Tigers will rain down upon the compound
The tongues of children are sticky and dry from whiskey and
Leather and flags will wither and die
Cigarettes and tits have become the norm
The pantry and the parlor will be in closer proximity
Mild cheeses will become sharp once Mama gets her money
Cartoon versions of American Presidents have come back to taunt
everyone you went to school with
And He will return in a fully restored '72 Plymouth Sebring,
white with mint green interior
The revolution will be streamed by Netflix
And I shall not want, for everything is too much
Pillars will become less impressive, and none shall think they
can dance
Pieces of space will slice through anything palpable
Once the Megalopolis is achieved, taxes rise and population
Pouty lips fellate ships, and star charts are all the rage
And we saw what we had made, and there were seven
dipping sauces to choose from
Lord, receive our mass texts

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